Right Hand Woman
by abcakes
Summary: Could you survive the rigorous Kingsman training? Or rather, could you survive with only one hand? Read as Samantha Ackart, ex-military amputee joins the United Kingdom's finest in what may be the world's most dangerous job interview. / Set before and during the events of the Golden Circle. Updating
1. Samantha Ackart

She could feel them staring at it, whispering behind her back as she sat there quietly. At this point, she was less sensitive to it all, but she wouldn't be human if it didn't bother her. She still had feelings, even if it was nearly two years ago that it occurred. The month after she had been released from the hospital's rehabilitation program had easily been one of the harder months of her life, for everyone stared at her where she went.

Sam wasn't normally someone who caused people to run into things when they saw her-or at least if they had she had never noticed—but now it happened nearly every day. She had to learn to laugh at them, make the best out of the situation. It was just a new thing to some people, something that only existed in war movies to most.

"I heard she was an SAS," came a voice to her right, distinctly female.

Another spoke, now surprised. "But she's so young!"

"I know! Apparently she lied about her age and they never found out. I also heard—" A pair of polished Oxfords appeared in front of her, crisply ironed blue slacks following immediately after. Glancing up from her book, Sam's grey-green gaze was met by one of equal intensity, only a shocking shade of dark, velvet blue. Neatly trimmed black hair and an array of freckles stretched across the bridge of his nose, giving the man a nearly boyish charm to him.

Her eyes flickered down from his face to his hand, now outstretched. "Quentin Wickham. Pleasure to meet you."

Most people at this point would have realized that she was down one arm, cut off at the elbow and switched hands, realizing they had it right the first time and very embarrassingly switched hands, a sheepish flush upon their face. Yet Quentin, she thought she had heard his name right, had some sort of exuberant confidence in himself, something that brought an immediate air of comfort between the two of them. Setting aside the novel, Sam took to her feet, the rather long-legged man having to take a step back to allow her run, legs hitting the back of the bed. "Sam Ackart," She said, shaking his hand. "Pleasure's all mine."

Nodding his head towards the people standing behind them, Quentin's eyes never left her own and his grip on her hand stayed the same. "Ignore them," He said, words forming as if he knew what it was like to be an amputee. She had done a once over of him, and she knew he would most likely never know what it was truly like. Or even remotely, for that matter. This kid came from money, and well-earned and deserved money. His mother wouldn't stand for her darling baby boy to be inhibited in anyway, dear no! Money could fix all of their problems. "Some people don't know a hero when they see one."

A flush of color crossed her face, light enough that you could barely tell she was embarrassed. "I'm no hero. Just… Lucky." She replied, a smile crossing her face. Sam was one of those people who was a relatively pleasant person, but everyone had a line in the sand. Her line was just… closer than others. In her schooling years before she graduated, she had gone to public schools, unlike the rest of the people here. The special ability of revenge had been blessed upon Samantha, and needless to say if you got on her bad side, it was a very terrifying place to be. She was the type of person to embarrass you publicly and turn the entire public against you, making you realize that the only friend you truly had was the corner you cried in. But she had only gone that far once, and the bitch deserved it.

Quentin smiled at her, one that would bring any girl to her knees and beg for a conversation with him. There was no use denying it the man was incredibly handsome. Round, tortoise-shell glasses and pretty lips, thick eyelashes and muscles defined even through his suit, it was hard to deny. Sam knew she was going to stick out even further the second she walked into the room with all of them. Money had always been tight in her family, even now that only a few of them were left. "So, Sam, what do you take of all of this?"

Her eyes floated around the room, taking in everyone who immediately looked away from her, thinking about everything that had happened before she came. "I think…" Her voice trailed off for a moment, watching the knob of the massive metal door turn, sliding open to reveal a balding man. "I think we're all in over our heads."

"Fall in," he said with an air of authority, everything about the man's presence demanding their immediate and full attention and easily holding it. Sam found herself on the side of the two lines the nine had formed, thanking god she wasn't stuck in the middle where she would easily stick out further. Sharply dressed like the rest of them, an air of knowledge filled the air around him. She had the strange feeling that he had a master's degree in quantum physics.

Waiting until they were all standing together, arms behind their backs and an alert stance, Merlin took the time to observe. Every year they needed to replace someone, right when he met each of the candidates for the new Kingsman position, Merlin took a wild guess on who he thought would get it based on already known background information and first appearances. When Eggsy and Roxy were in the training pool, his guess had been Charlie. Military background, training with some of the world's most elite army men and women, and a family of impressive stance, he was a shoe-in for the position. Yet, when they pushed him to what wasn't even the limit of Kingsman, he cracked. Merlin would admit that he was slightly disappointed.

But, from this year's existing pool of possible Kingsman, the choices were much harder. From looks alone, his first and most definite choice would be Quentin Wickham, six-foot-five and eyes so sharp they could cut through diamonds. Next would be Theodore Bostwick, the James Bond-esque man who had attended school with Charlie. Considering the betrayal they had received from Charlie, Merlin hoped he wouldn't stay in the program for too long. On and on the list went, from Natasha Hawethorn to Samantha Ackart, the people he thought would stay in the program went downwards quickly.

However, based on information he was able to gather on the lot of them so far, he was absolutely shocked to discover that the person he had placed on the bottom of his list, soon moved to the top. Samantha Elaine Ackart, daughter of John Ackart and Gale Ackart, sister to several military men, she was pulling a strong military background. Captain of British Special Air Services Squadron 497, she fought in the Silent War. Incredible IQ like the rest of them, he was mildly surprised to find she held a mild case of PTSD, having done several months of recuperative therapy whilst learning to cope with a now nearly missing arm. All in all, he was very impressed with the twenty-two year old. While the other's backgrounds were impressive, none so much like hers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Merlin. You are about to embark on what is probably the most dangerous job interview in the world." He gave them all a slight smile, enjoying how all of their faces changed in fear slightly, continuing on with his memorized introduction speech. "One of you, and only one of you, will become the next Percival. Now,"

Walking towards one of the beds, he picked up the forest-green bag off of the top of the stack of things on the bed end. "Can anybody tell me what this is?"

Hands shot in the air, each of them looking for a chance to prove that they were worth being here, worth the risks they were about to take. "You," he said, pointing to the tall boy in the middle, who answered correctly with "body bag, sir." Merlin nodded, setting the bag down and walking into the middle of the room. "Correct. Quentin, isn't it?"

Quentin nodded, the room falling silent once more before Merlin spoke. "In a moment, you will each collect a body bag. You will write your name on the body bag. You will write the details of your next of kin on that bag. This represents your acknowledgement of the risks you're about to face as well as your agreement to strict confidentiality. Which incidentally," He said with a smile, the slight trace of poison in his words letting them know that he meant _exactly_ what he said. "If you break, will result in you, and your next of kin, in that bag."

Taking a brief moment to observe once more, he continued. "Is that understood?" A chorus of nods followed. "Excellent. Fall out."

Sam watched him walk away, everyone breaking stance and choosing a bed, finding a pen and writing their information onto the bags. Hoping that this would be the end of her socializing and that no one would recognize her, but someone spoke behind her. "You must be Samantha Ackart," a girl's voice said. Dammit.

A brunette smiled at her, tight-lipped smile and hair pulled back against her head, cold grey eyes nearly cutting her in half. She was friendly looking, at least. "Amelia Boone. I'm a big fan." Sticking her hand out, she did the awkward hand shuffle, forcing herself to hide her embarrassment and she kept her grin up through it all.

Forcing her own grin, Sam shook her hand and thanked god she hadn't lost her right hand, otherwise handshakes would be far more awkward. "There's really nothing to be a fan of, I was just a pilot and a gunsman," she laughed nervously, wanting nothing more than to get away from the topic of her military career. It was nearly two years later after the end of her career, and she still hated to talk about it. She could imagine that people _knew_ she hated to even think about it, and that's why they all brought it up so much.

Amelia frowned slightly, confusion filling her face. Dropping their hands, Amelia regained her stance and Sam prepared herself for the "of course you're a hero blah blah blah" speech, hoping that she wasn't going to say anything else. She wasn't so lucky. "But you saved all of those—"

"Amelia, come on. The vegetable hasn't done much to be worthy of praise." Theodore cut in, smiling maliciously. "Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart, the only reason you're here is because someone felt bad for you."

A sickeningly sweet grin crossed her face, and she shook his outstretched hand with an overly strong grip. "I suppose I can say the same about you then. One of the Kingsman must have taken one look at your dick and felt _so bad_," She said mockingly, voice turning into one you would use for a baby on the last two words. "And for the record, 'sweetheart', the term vegetable applies to someone in a wheelchair, and is extremely rude and ableist. I, on the other hand, am missing an arm. But nice try."

"Ouch, baby." Said another, coming up beside Theodore. "No need to be so mean. Shame a pretty girl like you is messed up." The man did a once over her, taking in her body with a smirk on her face. "Well, at least the good parts aren't messed up."

Letting out a short laugh, Theodore smiled. "That's to say the least. Meet Brogues and Hadley, two other candidates for the position you'll never see." The two of them nodded, smiling at her maliciously. For some odd reason, she was immediately reminded of Draco Malfoy and crew from Harry Potter, their snide remarks and tendency to mock those who weren't exactly like themselves nearly a mirror to the snobby platinum blonde.

"Wait," Hadley said, uncrossing one of his arms to point at her. "I think we've met before. Did you strip at one of my father's annual company parties?" A snide look crossed over his face, fully thinking that she would have no answer for it. "I most definitely remember a one-armed hooker there last year."

"Nah," Sam replied, smiling at them. "But if I did, there would be one more reason your mum drowns herself with pills every night." A triumphant look crossed her face when all of their faces fell, and she knew that she had gotten the situation dead on. Theodore placed a hand on Hadley's arm and steered him around, giving her a nasty look as he did so. Still smirking to herself, she turned around, finally getting around to writing her name on her body bag.

Quentin watched the whole thing, mildly impressed with how she stuck up for herself. "And to think I was worried about you," he said with a smile, watching the brunette grab the bag and sit down with it, a smile upon her face.

Sam smiled at him, glancing over at the wounded boys as she spoke. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not entirely useless. Just a bitch." The last comment earned a laugh out of Quentin, and her smile widened. Oh yeah. They were all in over their heads.


	2. Amelia Boone, Natsha Hawethorne

The rest of the day had passed on slowly, nothing entirely too interesting happening at dinner or even at lights out. Sam would admit that she was slightly disappointed that nothing had happened like the others had described. They were allowed to talk about their mentors, as long as they didn't mention names or appearances. Nothing to give away their identities or personal information, that way if one of the people in the program decided revenge was their only option, they couldn't take it out on someone who hadn't brought them in. With all of the security around their names and appearances, she could guess someone had done this before.

Merlin had reentered the room shortly before lights out, telling them how they should all try and get some rest, explaining how tomorrow could be one of the hardest days of their lives. Pajamas were distributed and measurements were taken for uniforms, and then they were all sent off to bed. Even if the stakes were incredibly high, she couldn't help but have the distinct feeling that she was at summer camp, only she was the incredibly poor scholarship kid surrounded by future corporate owners. This feeling, of course, was completely true. Just minus the summer camp part.

Sam would be lying to herself if she said she hadn't enjoyed the view of all of the shirtless men in the program, either pulling the white cotton shirt over their chests or simply leaving it bare. She was glad to see that Quentin hadn't put a shirt on, and she knew that even the most man-hating of women would have enjoyed the view she so currently had. Reaching up, she pulled her hair out of its loose ponytail, shaking it out as she put the band around her wrist, dark brown hair falling around her face and stopping in the middle of her chest. "That's a lot of hair," Quentin commented, sitting up on his elbows to watch her comb her fingers through it.

"Funny how that happens when you haven't had a haircut in around a year and a half." She watched as Quentin's nose scrunched up in disgust, not understanding why someone would do that. "Oh, shut up. Im not disgusting, I just keep forgetting to go."

Quentin smiled at her, glasses sitting on the floor besides him. "You seem to have things in abundance. Has anyone ever told you that? An abundance of hair, an abundance of freckles, an abundance of long legs. You have a lot of one thing."

Shifting her weight on the mattress, chatter in the room was starting to die down as she pulled herself under the covers, amputated arm resting across her chest semi-awkwardly, as it always was. "An abundance of hands, however, is something I do not have. Some things in my life are very, very singular. My love life, for example."

She could feel Quentin smile beside her on his bed, silence falling between the two of them. Sam couldn't say she was upset that the conversation had ended, she was never much of a talker, especially not after she was released. The silence had grown thicker, spreading around the room until the only noise left was the soft snores of those asleep and the sleep-shuffling people did.

Watching from the other side of the two-way glass, Merlin's eyes flickered down to the electronic clipboard, pulling up the top camera for the room and reading all of their signs, making sure they were sleeping soundly. "Christ, Merlin," came a voice to the direct left of him. "When're you gonna flood it already?"

Not turning to look at his two younger parts, he glanced back out at the nine of them. "Patience, Eggsy, is key. Didn't your mother ever teach you that?" An obscene gesture was tossed his way by the boy, and a small smile graced Merlin's face as he knew he won.

"I," Roxy said, arms crossed as she walked up towards him at the window, staring out at the people there, taking mental inventory of what each looked like. She would admit that she was proud when her candidate, Quentin, was the first to befriend and gain the trust of Samantha, or whatever her name was. After looking up her file, Roxy had instructed her old friend to be nothing but kind to her, even if he had to fake it. Everyone needed a friend after they had gone through shit like that. "For one, find it incredibly fascinating. I'd always wondered how you could flood a room that fast without creating much noise. And now that I know, I'm wondering why I didn't think of it sooner."

Taking to his feet, Eggsy brushed off the back of his pants and walked up next to them. "That's all fine an' well, Rox. What I wanna know is who comes up with shit like this. People could die, Merlin." Noticing he was being completely ignored by the two of them, the scowl on his face deepened slightly. Roxy had already forced him to come to this, and now no one was paying attention to him. Sulking like a child in time out, he hugged his arms to him tighter, grumbling to himself inside of his head.

Merlin pressed the button on his clipboard, the conversation with Roxy having reached its peak and now time to do what they had been discussing—flood the room. A timer appeared, counting down from ten. Staring expectedly at the floor, Merlin found himself glancing over at their two newest agents, one with a look of utter amazement and the other sulking to himself. Good to see nothing had changed.

As if appearing from nowhere, water started to pool in the middle of the room and rapidly increase in quantity. Snapping out of his trance, Eggsy watched with wide eyes as the water level rose, people starting to wake up and panic, lights turning on. "Merlin," he said slowly. "She ain't got no arm." The water had reached the bottom of the mirror by this point, people standing on top of their beds. Two of them had already figured out how to get oxygen, water rising more rapidly now that it was at their waists. One of them had started towards the door, only to find it was shut in vain. Yet, the girl who "ain't got no arm" hadn't moved yet, staring in the direction of the mirror as the water level rose to her neck.

Glancing over towards Merlin, he repeated his statement, only to be met by silence once more. Eyes snapping back towards the lot of them, he let out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding when he caught glimpse of his candidate, Leo Winchcombe, a friend from when he was in Navy training, at the toilets and still breathing. The one armed girl swam past them all, everyone watching her as she swam up to the mirror, staring at what seemed like Merlin. Looking down, she grabbed hold of the faucet on the sink, bracing herself with one foot as she slammed the other against the glass, a small crack appearing.

"Come on," Merlin said, turning and walking away from the mirror. Holding open the door for the two of them, Merlin took one last glance out at the mirror, a much larger crack appearing this time. Taking notice of all of them, he shut the door behind them just as the mirror shattered. Turning to face the other man, Merlin finally acknowledged what he was saying. "And for the record, Eggsy. She's not actually missing her arm, it's just been severed at the elbow."

Eggsy felt himself swallow hard at the word "severed." He couldn't tell if Merlin was simply being dramatic, or actually meaning what he said. Either way, he could imagine it wasn't so pleasant for her. Pushing the door open once more, Merlin stepped in and glanced over all of them, shaking and holding themselves as they attempted to warm themselves from the freezing water. Roxy and Eggsy stood in the doorway, eyes glued out into the flooded room.

"Congratulations on completing your first task," Merlin said, calling everyone in the room to attention, all breathing heavily and practically vibrating at this point. "Quentin, Leo, well done. For those of you who are still confused, if you can get a breathing tube around the u-bend of a toilet, you have an unlimited air supply. Simple physics, worth remembering."

Eyes flickering down towards Sam, he caught the immediate panic-stricken, fear-ridden look in her eyes, carved out underneath a layer of absolute hollowness masquerading as death. "Sam," he said, her eyes meeting his for a split second. "Well done for spotting that was a two-way mirror."

"Probably seen enough of them," Theodore mumbled, a smirk crossing his face when Hadley and Brogues laughed with him, watching Sam's shoulders tense instinctively.

A scowl crossed the features on Merlin's face, and the air around him changed to something far angrier. "Yeah, you can all wipe those smirks off your faces." He said, anger ebbing through him as he realized someone else was missing. "Because as far as I'm concerned, every single one of you has failed."

There was a little bit of a pause as the smirks on their faces dripped slowly off, fear etching into all of them. Quentin looked over his shoulder, face going a ghastly white when he realized who was missing. "You all forgot the most important thing." Everyone stared up at the bald man, praying what they thought wasn't real. "Teamwork."

Pointing out towards the flooded room, every single one of their hearts sank as they stood, two bodies floating in the middle of the drowned room. One, Sam could recognize immediately as redheaded Natasha Hawethorne, and she felt bile rise to her throat when she recognized the other—Amelia Boone.

Scenes flashed through her mind, a haze covering her eyes as her heart rate picked up at a completely unnatural pace. Her breathing became uneven, and she knew from two years of waking up with thrashing nightmares what was going to happen. It was like she was outside of her own body as she walked up to Merlin, mumbling the words to get permission to leave and so in a haze that she slammed into the shoulder of someone standing in the doorway, muttering a rushed apology in an attempt to get out of there before she had a massive panic attack. PTSD was a bitch, and an unapologetic one at that.

Bracing herself from falling, she kept one hand on the wall as the same scene flashed in her mind, the plane crashing into the water, Piers and Lewis' bodies somehow making it to the surface and never moving. She could feel the freezing ocean around her in the dead of the night, the sting of salt water against her scrapes and bruises, and she could still _feel _the way the ocean had begged her to join the rest of her dead crewmembers, only to be pulled onto the life raft by George seconds later.

Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she stopped kicking. If she had stopped fighting to stay above the ocean line. If she had given up and joined her crew like a good captain, for a captain always goes down with her ship. Even if that ship was a seven-ton fighter jet in the middle of a dogfight.

Opening her eyes, the image of her dead friends was replaced by cold tile, a small puddle of crystal-clear water surrounding her shivering form and she attempted to rid herself of all thoughts. Her heartbeat sounded like someone had placed a drum over her head and was beating as hard as they could. _You're not there, that's not real. You're not there, you're safe. You're not there, Sam, you're safe._

The mantra repeated itself over and over in her head, and she put her head in between her knees, knowing how if someone walked by she would be seen as incredibly weak and compromised, only to be sent out of there in a matter of seconds. She had to pull herself together, make it seem like she wasn't losing her mind. This was the only way she could continue to serve her country, help the people she loved. She had to become a Kingsman, her family needed the money desperately and she needed some way to help those around her without feeling like a burden. So when Harry Hart appeared at her doorstep two years ago, she readily accepted his offer, only he never showed up again. Then, yesterday, she was shuttled off here.

For what seemed like years, she sat with her head between her knees, hand gripping at the back of her head as her heartbeat slowed. Her muscles unlocked themselves, and she let her legs uncurl, dropping them to the floor. It was over for now, and that was the good part. She just worried that she would get nightmares later tonight, and nothing said "I'm mentally stable and completely competent enough to be here" like screaming in the middle of the night and waking everyone up after the awful night they had already had.

Sam stayed on the floor for a little while longer, staring down at her hand and wondering why the hell this had all happened to her. Wondering why she ever thought it would be a good idea to join the military. All it had gotten her was a missing arm and a case of PTSD, not to mention dead family members. She could imagine that it would only get worse from here.

A sigh passed over her lips, and she took a deep breath with her eyes closed before pushing herself off of the ground. Eventually, she would have to head back, so she'd rather do it now rather than when people have started to notice her absence. Taking her steps as slowly as she could, she hoped that someway, somehow, she wouldn't have a soaking bed to go back to. Reaching the metal door she came in through, she noticed that when she pulled it open, it was like it never happened.

Everyone was dead asleep, the floors were completely dry and the mirror was replaced. Lights surrounding her own were out, and she was floored at how they were all back to normal. Maybe she had been gone longer than she thought. Either way, she needed rest.

Tomorrow was the first day.

**((Hey guys! It's me again! I have a bunch of ideas so I plan to be updating pretty quickly, with long chapters each time. Keep commenting and letting me know what you think. I love to hear what you guys think! -abcakes))**


	3. Louis

It was quite cold the next morning. Wind picking up the ends of her ponytail, everyone shifted their weight back and forth as they stood in a perfect line. They had been woken an hour earlier, uniforms and instructions to get up, get dressed, grab something to eat and go being the only word of the wiser they got. Sam had noticed something about Kingsman, and it was the fact that absolute obliviousness was key here, and that was only towards the things that you didn't need to know.

Not a single one of them looked like they had gotten any sleep the night previous, and she doubted that any of them did. They were all on guard, not wanting to fall into such a deep sleep that if anything else happened at night they wouldn't be prepared. She highly doubted they would pull a stunt like that again, not while they were all expecting it to happen once more.

On the plus side, the uniforms they had handed out were relatively pleasant to the eyes. Deep greens or blues, plaid patterns and buttons down the front. It was all very orderly, ending a little lower than the ankle. The uniform had even come with socks and a dark brown pair of what felt like hiking boots. She hadn't complained too much, someone was feeding and clothing her for free. The only thing she didn't like too much was the fact that there was a very real threat of death at the facility.

Merlin appeared from a door behind the stairwell, not even bothering to look up at them until he was behind the carved fence on the top. Sticking his ever-present clipboard under his arm, Merlin stuffed his hands into his pockets and did a quick survey of them. They looked like hell. "As some you will have learned last night, teamwork is paramount here at Kingsman. We're here to enhance your skills, test you to the limit. Which is why, you're going to pick a puppy."

Sam's eyes snapped towards where the twelve dog crates were, mind immediately crossing out ones that she knew for a _fact_ wouldn't and couldn't be a disability dog. She would assume that they didn't get to keep the dogs afterwards, so she needed one that would help her now. Besides, she'd always wanted a dog. "Wherever you go, your dog goes. You will care for it, you will teach it, and by the time it's fully trained, so will you be. Those of you that are still here, that is."

Scanning his eyes over the trainees, he noticed that like always, they had each already mentally chosen which dog they wanted. He had always found it funny when people chose the dogs that they picked especially for them. They had disability dogs, ones built for running, several different breeds of gundogs, and dogs that weren't entirely built for anything, minus the fact that appearances could be deceiving. For example, Eggsy's dog JB. What Eggsy had thought was a bulldog was a pug, but now he would rather shoot someone else than his dog. "Do you understand?" Merlin asked, voice loud as he demanded their attention, noticing their either lack of proper stance or one so perfect that you couldn't find a flaw no matter how hard you tried. A few measly nods, and Merlin took out his clipboard once more. "Choose your puppy."

Within ten minutes, they were all back in line, dogs huddling around their legs and feet nervously, and seeing as they were still puppies it was rather adorable, even if all of her tough-girl military training was telling her not to think so. But deep, deep down she had almost giggled when her dog, a Bernese mountain dog, had licked her face happily. Collars and leashes were handed out and promises of nametags were given out to all of them, including the owners. Comforting, there was a possibility that their bodies could end up so unrecognizable that they would need tags to recognize them.

"Dear god," Quentin said from beside her, all of them still supposed to be facing forwards and at attention, but seeing they were all just sort of standing there none of them really did that. "What kind of behemoth dog is that thing? Is it even a dog, or is it a bear?"

A smile twitched at the corner of Sam's lips, and she felt her puppy lay his head on her foot, warmth radiating off of him. She had had him for less than ten minutes and the dog had already stolen her heart. His name was Louis, after Louis Zamperini. Sam found extreme irony in his name, seeing as both she and Louis Zamperini shared similar experiences. "He's a Bernese mountain dog, thank you very much. Easy to train, disability dogs, and don't flinch at the sound of gunshots. And if you think this is big, you should see him when he's full grown." Eyes twitching over to the ground where Quentin's dog was, she let out a snort. "What the hell is that thing?"

Quentin broke his stance, glancing down at his dog before looking at her. "He's an English foxhound, thank _you_ very much," he said, mocking her words as she replied with a roll of her eyes. "Used by kings as hunting dogs, they have an amazing sense of smell and can kill a man in one bite if done correctly. While I think, however, if your dog _sat_ on someone, it would kill them."

"Get a bloody room," Theodore growled underneath his breath, and both Sam and Quentin turned to glare at him for a moment. God, she hated that guy.

Something wet was touching her cheek repeatedly.

Something wet was touching her cheek repeatedly and she wasn't quite sure what it was. It was heavy, whatever it was, and for the weight residing on her chest wasn't all too pleasant. Her fear was, however, that she was drowning and had never woken up.

Eyes snapping open, she nearly flung Louis off of the bed as he fell off of her chest and onto the bed next to her, Sam diving and grabbing him as he wiggled around on his back. "Shh," she hissed, completely aware that a dog most likely couldn't understand her and receiving a lick to the cheek in response. A sigh escaped her dejectedly, and she let her head drop. "You're lucky you're cute, I thought I was dying."

Setting the pup down at the end of her bed, she started to lay back down when Louis pawed at her foot. Glancing down at the—well, Quentin said it right. He was about bear cub sized. Tail wagging happily, the dog made a small whining noise as the back of his throat, and she stared to lay back down when he made it again. "What?" She hissed once more, only to receive more wiggles. A dejected groan came from her, and she threw off her covers and swung her legs over the side. "Fine."

Reaching over, she grabbed the small puppy and held him to her chest, the wiggling mass calming once held by her as she walked towards the door, pushing it open and checking both ways before stepping out and quietly shutting the door behind herself. "You're going to get me in trouble." She grumbled, setting him on the floor and walking down the hall barefooted, the pup trailing obediently behind, tail still wagging.

Unsure of what he wanted, Sam was somewhat convinced that he needed to go outside. Not like it bothered her, she just wasn't looking forwards to the days that he needed to, only was much, much bigger. One hundred pounds bigger. But she liked him at the size he was now, clumsy puppy feet and constant wiggling and kisses something she couldn't say she complained about. Plus, she liked the way his feet clicked slightly against the tile floors, just like—

Freezing mid-walk, Sam looked down at her feet to see that he wasn't trailing behind her anymore. Spinning around, her heart sunk when she noticed he wasn't in the hallway either. Far, far, off in the distance, she could hear the familiar _click click click_ of his feet against tile, the jingle from his collar there as well. Going into full on panic mode, she dashed down the hallway and tried to call his name, realizing that if she was caught by Merlin, she was done for.

"Louis!" She called lowly, creeping down the hallways and glancing around corners, listening intently for any sign of the pup. "Louis!"

Glancing down one hallway, Sam kept her eyes down that one as she turned the corner into a new hallway, not looking where she was going. Slamming into something hard, she stumbled back a little and realized that she should probably pay attention or she was going to run into walls. Walls that smelled strangely of expensive cologne and wore expensive suits.

Color draining from her face until she was ashen white, Sam felt like she was going to faint when the man turned, holding a happy Louis in arm. Oh god, oh no. She was going to be kicked out of Kingsman, all because of some stupid restless puppy that wouldn't go to sleep. "I—I'm so sorry," she eventually stammered out, having backed herself into a wall. "I didn't mean to—"

"Hey, hey hey hey," the man said, not entirely sure how to react to the girl who was clearly about to faint from what seemed like a mixture of embarrassment and fear. The hell was she afraid of him for? "Deep breath, I'm not gonna hurt ya'."

Ignoring what he said, Sam kept her breath held in, not saying a word for the longest time. "Please don't kick me out of Kingsman," she said in one breath, all of the words coming out in a rush.

Shuffling on his feet, Eggsy gave her a strange look. "Why would I—look, I'm not gonna kick you out a Kingsman. You gonna be aight?" After a very hesitant shake of the panicked girl's head, he held out a hand, motioning for her to take it. "Come on, then."

Handing her a cup of steaming tea, Eggsy didn't respond to her mumbled thanks, sitting across from her in his office. And by office, he meant somewhere he was allowed to keep public records of things he had done for people. Newspapers lined the walls by this point of his nearly three years, most of them describing the horrifying events of V Day. No one had thanked him for that, but it wasn't like he truly cared. Even if millions upon millions were killed, he was just thankful that he was able to stop it when he did. If he hadn't, his little sister wouldn't be here anymore and his mother would be a complete wreck. "Feelin' better?" He asked, the pup having fallen asleep next to its owner. And what an owner he had.

Dark brown hair that fell perfectly around her, stunning grey-green eyes, perfectly formed cupid's bow lips that looked deliciously kissable, and freckles that covered her face and arms. She was stunning, to say the least, but the fact that drew him to her nearly immediately was the fact of her arm. To him, for some completely unknown reason, the fact that she was missing a large section of her arm was completely fascinating. Plus the fact that she didn't seem to let the removal bother her all too much, learning how to cope with it and even make the best of the situation and doing what he considered impossible for any person, let alone someone with a disability like her own. Watching her nod into her tea, a sigh passed her lips. "Yeah. I'm sorry I kind of went into full on panic mode, I have this thing—"

"Post-traumatic stress disorder, I know." He said, cutting her off. Eggsy didn't want her to have to explain herself once more, something he was quite sure she was incredibly tired of. A perfectly arched eyebrow was raised, and he cleared his throat. "Read your file. We don' have many veterans around here." A small nod came from the girl, and she raised to cup to her lips once more without once breaking his gaze.

"Have you now." She said bleakly, setting the cup down onto the side table next to her. "Quite depressing, isn't it." At this point, Sam was desperate to regain whatever sense of pride she had left, even if there was barely any there to begin with. Keeping a flat tone to her voice, she hoped that he would pick up on her lack of interest on the topic and sway away from it. He was staring at her, watching her every move and taking in her every feature. He had been doing it for so long now that she was pretty sure he knew the exact number of freckles on her face.

Shifting his weight on the seat, Eggsy seemed to suddenly realize that her posture was near perfect and attempted to fix his in response. Samantha, he thought he remembered her name as that, seemed to be testing him. Evaluating. Stripping him down to the bone layer by layer with those calculating eyes of hers. Admittedly he was doing the same, only he stopped when all of her clothes were in a heap on the floor. "You're not kiddin'," he said, one hand fiddling with the button of his sleeve. You could take the boy out of the chav, but you couldn't take the chav out of the boy. "Couldn't even finish it. Sorry about…" Eggsy's voice trailed off. How the hell do you say you're sorry to someone who had everything torn from them right when they thought they were getting their life together?

All she knew to do was just nod. Nodding had become her failsafe way of showing people that she appreciated them caring but letting them know that simply saying that you were sorry wasn't going to help much. But she would move on none the less. That's what she was good at, moving on. Even before her life had been fucked nine ways from Sunday, moving on was something she had never hidden from. Moving on from death, from loss, from relationships. "I'm E—Galahad."

Eyes flickering up to him, Eggsy felt his hand freeze as she stared up at him from thick lashes. He could guess that she had heard the freeze in his voice, realizing that it probably wasn't the best idea to release his name to someone that could possibly end up not in Kingsman. Nearly three years of being there had made him quite paranoid about who knew his name or anything about him, and seeing as his ability was undercover missions, that did nothing to ease his worries. The girl's face seemed to change, and she leaned forwards slightly to stretch out her arm. "Percival," she said smoothly, the word rolling off of her tongue as if she had said it a thousand times before.

A smile twitched onto his face, and Eggsy leaned forwards to shake her hand. "Confident," he commented, the air having switched from thick and uncomfortable to flirtatious in .003 seconds flat. Eggsy couldn't say he disliked the change, he was just slightly amused at how fast she changed moods. "Sounds like you're gonna complete the program."

Slinking back, a smile settled itself onto Sam's face as she made herself comfortable, crossing her legs. From the second she had sat down, he hadn't stopped staring at her. Admittedly, she would usually let it slide and continue on, but there was something about the man that just begged her to lead him on. To make him think he had a chance. To make him realize that even though he helped her tremendously, she didn't owe him anything. He, much like herself, did not come from money and she could tell. The way he fidgeted with his suit, the way his hair was slightly messed up, and his accent. Foul mouthed, bad posture, and nearly everything gave him away for what she had come to call "new money." The rich who hadn't settled into being rich yet.

Chavs revolved around sex and violence, and she knew from what she had seen already that violence was not missing here. She could imagine that sex, maybe, was something that was a little harder to come by. But he was handsome, and from a small observation she could tell that he had a rather fit body. "I plan on it. Can't you see it now—amputee and war hero Samantha Ackart continues to serve her country by doing things so secret that the term 'for her eyes only' doesn't apply. Scandalous."

Feeding into her act, a smile crossed his face. "I can promise you tha' you'll be the prettiest one here."

One hand playing with the collar of her shirt, she watched his eyes follow her hand as she traced along her collarbone. The more she thought about it, she wasn't sure about why she had decided on the sudden turn of mood, but it had been a long time since she flirted with someone. In her schooling years, she was known for being a tease to anyone who try. She was also known for breaking noses when the person had gone too far, or was someone who thought they held power over women. "Is that true?" She said slowly, lips forming the syllables perfectly. "I can't say I agree with you, Mr. Galahad. Your brunette friend is absolutely stunning."

"Roxy?" He replied with, not even realizing he had just given out her name. "Tha's true, but—"

Cutting him off, she propped her elbow up on her hand. "But what?"

Eggsy had to swallow hard. He wasn't too sure why, but she was making him incredibly nervous. Incredibly anxious. Making him feel like he had something to prove. Palms sweating, pants getting tighter than they should be, her entire _persona_ made his heart thud. Not in the _"I'm completely and irrationally in love with you,"_ way, more or less of the "_I want to bend you over a table and fuck you until we both forget our names," _way. Hopefully he'd get the chance. Opening his mouth to speak, Eggsy couldn't find the words to form what he wanted to say and how to say them. "I see," Sam commented after a little while of his silence, standing. "Walk me back?"

Their silence continued as they neared the bunkroom door, Louis padding along besides them as Eggsy held his arm out for her to hold, a very gentlemanly thing he had been taught to do. He felt his heart sink slightly when the door came in sight, slowing down when they were right in front of it. ""ere we—"

Sam grabbed ahold of his tie, yanking him close to her until their lips were centimeters away, and she could feel his bated breath on her skin. As if completely natural, Eggsy's arms surrounded her and pulled her close, hands spreading across the flat of her back. His pupils dilated over and over again, and she could see he was struggling to keep his composure. Leaning forwards, she whispered into his ear, making sure her lips brushed his cheek as she pulled away. "Thanks for the tea, Galahad." Letting go of his tie, she turned and opened the door, closing it to him once she was inside, leaving a very, _very_ sexually frustrated Eggsy outside of the door.

God she loved this place.

**((Hey guys! Me again. Hope you're all still enjoying Right Hand Woman! I figured you would all like a little more Eggsy in your lives, and more importantly, Sam's life! She's a huge tease, and Eggsy fell right for it. Bless his cute little self. Anyways, if you guys have things you want to see happen while she's in training, comment and let me know and ill try and work every single one of them in. Thanks so so much guys, you're awesome!))**


	4. Hal & George

When you lose one thing, you gain another. Whether it be material or physical, life never took without giving something in return. As exampled earlier, Sam's loss was obvious enough to cause people to stare at her on the regular. While it was hard to learn how to live using only her right hand, she had come to find out that thankfully, most of the world was right-handed. She could still tell people to fuck off with her right hand (to which she had done to Theodore several times), she could still write with her right hand, she was a good shot with her right, and she was lucky enough to be dominantly right-handed to begin with. Life for her would have been fucking awful if she was dominantly left handed.

But, her most _favorite _thing about being down one arm, was the fact that her right was now incredibly strong. Not bulging muscles strong, but strong enough that she could show every single one of their asses up during physical assessments. One every two weeks for the next seven months, tracking their progress individually to see if they had improved. If they hadn't, they would be dropped from the program, as Kingsman always expected results, even if by the slightest. So far, a girl named Porter Roberts was told to go home, for she had done worse the second time around than she had the first.

Three months had passed since their very first day at Kingsman, the loss of two lives still burned into their minds. It was a bit of a nicer change to have someone leave somewhat peacefully, even if she had broken her arm. But that was her fault, letting go before it was safe was something they were told _never_ to do. You were supposed to give a warning so they could bring you down, but she just let go all of the sudden. Sam would probably feel worse for her if she wasn't having to compete against her. Actually, the more she thought about it, Sam was having to do it all with one arm and managed to double her time. She didn't feel too bad.

Quentin had become top in their class, followed closely by Theodore and herself. For the longest time, she had been surpassing Theodore, but they had a surprise mini-exam one day, and to her defense, Sam had never been with a women before, therefore had no clue how to bring a woman to an orgasm. Yes—that was something they taught here. Along with seduction and NLP techniques, for around two weeks straight everyone in the classes face was flushed bright red. Her favorite lesson by far, however, was the one on different types of men there were in the world, the crazies and murderers. (She had very happily discovered that Theodore possessed all of the traits of a megalomaniac.)

Kingsman, while ultimately helpful in most ways, taught some weird shit. From learning how to help women out of a car correctly (she had been allowed to opt out of this, being the test subject. She had stepped on Theodore's foot every time she got out, making them have to start over when he reacted.), to how to properly act a dinner party full of high-credentialed men and women where they had invited the rest of the Kingsman knights, to how to tie a tie correctly. Eggsy had purposefully sat next to her at the imitation dinner party, switching place cards so he was both beside his candidate, Leo, and next to Sam who was mentor-less, technically. They had spent the entire time driving each other crazy and politely bickering, the real argument coming out later that night when it was just the two of them.

She had learned what his name was the second time she had met him, when he had pulled her from the hallway roughly and pushed her against the wall, slamming the door of the room shut. "What the _fuck_ was that?" He had hissed, holding her arms above her head to keep her from walking away, accent thick now that he was upset. Eggsy's original plan was simply to shove her against the wall and kiss her, but his plan changed when he saw the somewhat frightened look in her eyes. It had flashed before his eyes briefly, but he knew better than to force himself upon someone who was afraid. His mum had taught him better. Besides, she no longer looked frightened, a smile growing on her face to reveal a small dimple on her right cheek.

Giving him a charming, sickly-sweet smile, Sam feigned innocence and batted her lashes at him, knowing it drove him crazy. "What was what?" She asked, a look of pure blindness to his anger written over her features. He was wearing some sort of glasses today, and she would admit that he was both attractive with and without them, but something about the whole teacher/gentleman look that made her stomach flutter. _Yes sir, _she thought to herself, thinking she was absolutely hilarious.

Lowering his eyes at her, Eggsy's jaw tightened. "Don' give me that bullshit." He said, grip around her wrist tightening. "What the _fuck _was that last night?" Removing one of his hands from the grip, he cupped it underneath her chin and forced her to keep looking at him.

"What's your name?" She asked, attempting to move the conversation in another direction, one she could control more easily.

"Answer the question."

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

There was a long standoff between the two of them, green meeting grey as they stood there (well, Sam was sitting more or less. Eggsy had shoved her up against some sort of dresser, and she was half-siting on it.), unblinking, waiting for the other to break. They both had desires that fell along the same path, Eggsy wanting to rip her clothes off and have his way with her, Sam wanting to keep him on edge for as long as she possibly could. She enjoyed teasing him, enjoyed leading him on to the point of madness.

As if deciding that he couldn't take it anymore, Eggsy was the first to break as he dropped his grip from her arms, picking her up slightly so she rested on top of the dresser, connecting their lips in a hungry kiss. Reacting immediately, Sam balled up a fist of his shirt, pulling him closer to her as she felt his hands go to her waist, head touching the wall behind them.

"Eggsy," he breathed, taking a small break in between kisses. "M'name's Eggsy."

Breathing heavily, Sam pulled back slightly, "It's nice to meet you Eggsy." She breathed, a smile forming on her face once more.

A small laugh escaped his lips, and Eggsy smiled along with her. "S'nice to meet you too." Connecting their lips once more, Sam felt the tips of his fingers dig into her hips, and she readjusted her grip on him. Hands moving to the buttons of Sam's uniform, Eggsy looked up when Sam placed a hand on his wrist, pulling away from him. While he would hate to admit it, his heart fell slightly when she did so, but the message she was sending him was true. "Shit. Sorry, forgot you were still in trainin'."

Helping her down from the dresser, Eggsy took gentle care of her as he checked around her wrist and waist, purple-blue patches springing up underneath her skin. Eggsy had uttered a slurred apology, kissing one on her wrist gently to show that he was serious. That was relatively the extent of their romantic time together, both content with waiting until she was made a Kingsman, or kicked from the program. The more and more she thought about it, she wouldn't classify it as "romantic," more like casual fucking that they were both incredibly consensual to.

She would often find herself absently wandering towards Eggsy's office, a now rather large Louis trotting by her side, somehow still not having grown out of his puppy-like walk yet. It was hilarious, really, how the terrifying beast of a dog flounced around on huge paws, body wiggling and never sitting still until he was asleep. Louis also thought he was a lap dog, not realizing he had outgrown his adorable size.

Take now for instance, Sam blinked to clear her mind from small flashbacks as she stared out into the fire of Eggsy's office. Lessons and training had ended early that day on account of the fact that they had been going non-stop for months at this point. If she couldn't sleep, or had a little time, odd chance was that you would find her here. Sam had always liked having a space to herself, and it had gotten to the point where both Eggsy and she felt overwhelmingly calm around the other. They were both able to keep the other grounded, even if they were simply nothing other than friends at this point, sadly. She knew it would change, she had seen some of the looks the former chav had given her.

Over her shoulder, the end of the day showed its final few colors and dusk took over the sky. It was a beautiful sight, and she always enjoyed watching it. When she found her way to his office that particular day, Louis had pushed past Eggsy as soon as the door was open, flopping down on the rug in front of the fire. She couldn't exactly remember what Eggsy's comment was, but it was a funny one never the less. That was about the only real conversation they had had since she entered the office, both settling into their normal spots.

Buzzing kept coming from behind her after a while, and when Eggsy laughed she figured out it was a phone. He was talking to his mother, apparently, who was filling him in on everything Daisy had gotten up to in his absence, and including punching a girl in the face (Sam could only imagine who had taught her that). Very proudly showing her his background, Sam would admit she had smiled a little bit when she saw how happy they looked. It was taken on the day of his mum's graduation, he had explained. She was apparently in school to become a nurse before his dad had died, and now that she had free time, Michelle was able to complete that. His little sister on hip, kissing his mother's cheek, she could tell that Eggsy was the type of man to do anything and everything for his family to survive.

A few more small words were exchanged between the two of them, and then they fell back into their realm of silence, an air of calm surrounding them. Knees pulled up to her chest and hugged to her, Sam rested her head on one knee as she watched the ever-changing flame. She mumbled that he looked good today, outfit mirroring Merlin's usual attire of a sweater and button up, showing off and defining his muscles even further. A blush lit up his face, and Eggsy set his phone to the side, staring at her.

Spine showing through her uniform, Eggsy noticed that even though she was rather… curvy, Sam was incredibly thin, bones showing on most of her body. He panicked for a minute, thinking something was wrong, before he realized that she had gone through some hard shit and calmed the fuck down. Her arm rested at her side, the sleeve rolled up in a perfect cuff (something he couldn't do even with two hands) around the amputation, and he started to wonder how it happened to her. Whether it was by accident or intentional, he could imagine that it wasn't pleasant either way. For a spilt second, he contemplated blurting out and asking her, but closed his mouth just as soon as he had opened it. "I know you have something to ask, so you may as well get on with it." _Fuck. He had been caught._

Shifting in his seat, Eggsy cleared his throat and straightened the little bit of his tie that you could see. He was just going to let his question pass, look it up on her file, and be done with it. Now he had to ask it carefully, figure out some way to say it so that she wouldn't take in offense. Harry would rise from the grave and strangle him if he didn't. "Your arm," he said slowly. "How'd you… How'd you—"

"Lose it?" Sam finished for him, words flat and lifeless as she continued to stare out into the flame. She half considered giving him the same bullshit answer she gave everyone else who had asked, but she knew good and well that Eggsy would call her out for it if she did. Taking a deep breath, Sam let it out slowly before starting to speak once more. "We were on a routine trip around our waters, making sure that no underwater or above water disturbances had occurred, checking for enemy ships and bases, so on and so on. What we didn't know, however, was the fact that we had appeared on enemy radar, and were flying dead on to the worst ambush that I'd ever seen. We were gunned down in an instant, sent plunging towards the water in what was becoming the pitch black of night.

"When we went down, I somehow made it to the surface of the water. George, my brother, had found and inflated the raft that every standard SAS aircraft was equipped with and was pulling those who were still alive in before they could catch hypothermia. I was the last one left to pull in, and he almost didn't considering I was surrounded by a pool of blood. I'd cut the hell out of my arm trying to surface.

"As kids, my brothers and I had the strangest obsession with American WWI war hero Louis Zamperini, who Louis is named after. Odd obsession, I know, but were a military family and he was a fucking badass. Just never thought that I would be living life through his eyes at one point in my life.

"We were stranded at sea for twenty-three fucking days. Hal, George, and I were the only ones who made it out, however. Lewis Morgan, one of the better men I've ever met, died on day seventeen from dehydration. Then it was just the three of us. Hal kept track of how many days had gone by on a string attached to his belt loop, making a knot per day we were out there. I luckily enough didn't bleed out from my arm, thanks to the little survival kit in raft. I did get really sick, however, because of it.

"On the twenty-third day, we were found by enemy ships, hauled onto land, and thrown into some sort of shithole in the middle of the forest. I wasn't allowed to see my brothers, and we were all fed only enough to keep us alive. Locked inside of rooms small enough to stand up and wide enough to lay down in, I came to hate being in the pitch black, yet it was my safe zone. The only light I had was the slightest crack in the door, my own personal heaven when it was daytime. Naturally, we were tortured for any information we could give, and I still have the scars to prove it. None of us gave anything up, and they eventually got tired of our silence.

"They took us out of our locked boxes one day, and I almost cried when I saw my brothers again. They forced us to our knees by a huge hole, and we were instructed to take off all of our clothes and anything that could identify us as SAS. At this point in time, I was starting to become more and more willing to have my head blown off than be sent to whatever hell came next. But for some reason, for some fucking reason, one of the men recognized Hal. Whether it be an old friend or someone he knew from school, I don't know, but he was the reason we're all still alive today.

"We were taken away from there, sent to separate camps. I didn't see either of my brothers until nearly two years later, long after the end of the war had come and gone while I was still in the hospital.

"Saudara Kematin, which is Indonesian for Death's Brother, was the name of the camp I was sent to. I never understood why it was Indonesian, I never met one Indonesian guard. But believe me when I say, the name was completely fucking accurate." Sam paused for a moment to catch her breath, voice completely devoid of life as she spoke. Her face was slowly getting wet from tears that were forming from the memories of it all, and she wasn't too sure when Eggsy had joined her on the floor. "At this point, it had been several months since my time on the raft, and several months since I had been able to change or clean the wound on my arm. It had also been around three weeks since I could feel my arm. We took the bandage off of my arm at night in the barracks, and the sight and smell were unimaginable. Rot and infection had set their way deep into my arm, and I knew then and there that I was going to lose it.

"From the first day I was at Saudara Kematin to the last, two hundred and thirty-seven men and women died in that camp. It was the end of the war, and the camp owner was attempting to get rid of us before any of the men or women from our side of the war found us, for they knew that they would be held for their crimes of mistreatment and murder if we were found. If we weren't, then they could burn all records of us ever being there. We were marched out to the river, huddled around each other with guns pointing at us from nearly every side. We all knew what was about to happen, and most had accepted the fact. Several people were crying, and one of the men who I had become friends with gripped onto my hand for dear life." A short, bitter laugh escaped her. "I remember turning my face towards the heavens, eyes closed as I basked in the sun for the last time. And then we heard them.

"A British plane flew overhead of us, flashing their lights to let us know that we had been seen. Everyone erupted into cheers, crying turned happy as they celebrated. We were going to _live_. For the first time in nearly a year and a half, a smile crossed my face as I kept it towards the sun. I weighed sixty-seven pounds when I left Saudara Kematin.

"I and several others were air-lifted to the closest hospital, all nearly dead and my left side completely useless. I was kept there for two weeks before they cleared me for being sent back home, my stay residing now in a hospital in London. Many more weeks passed before I saw my family again. The hospital decided that it would be best for my health that I get off of thin ice as far as it went to my health before I saw them again. Apparently Hal and George were in the same shape as me, nothing but skin and bones and gaunt faces."

At this point in her story, Sam fell silent as she broke her gaze from the fire and rested it upon the floor. She was aware how made up it sounded, often told to her by random passersby's on the street. But it was real. And it was deadly. "I can't imagine what it was like for all of them to see me there after all of that time. Stuck in a wheelchair, bone thin, and a now stump for an arm that was still wrapped up."

Her mind flashed back to when her family was nervously gather at the end of the hallway corridor, every nurse and patient and doctor lined up to see the reunion of what they had called a military hero to her family. As soon as she was pushed out to the hospital, three-fourths of her family burst into tears. Hal and George were the first to get to her, pulling her out of the chair and collapsing on the floor with her as they held her, sobbing. The entire corridor had burst into applause as the rest of her family caught up to the twins, surrounding Sam in a huge pile of tears and love. A nurse had taken video of it, and it had gone viral, making her famous to the everyday world. The military world knew her for what she had actually done. "They made me stay there a few more weeks, but I was eventually released. A little while later, and now I'm here."

Finally turning her gaze to Eggsy, she knew that he had already learned everything past that point. "That answer your question?" She asked, voice wavering slightly at the end, and Eggsy would admit that he didn't have the slightest clue what to do or even how to appropriately react. Closing his wide-open mouth, the bloodshot, dull, completely _dead_ eyes of Captain Samantha E. Ackart stared back at him.

The eyes of a war hero. The eyes of someone who was denied a Medal of Honor, simply because what she did and what she fought for was so classified that they couldn't release any information to the public. The eyes of someone who, much like himself, had spent their entire life _far_ fucking below the poverty line, and was willing to do anything, give anything, _become_ anything, just for the sake of their family. The eyes of someone who had flirted with death before, most likely attempting to finish the job themselves. The eyes of someone who had done what most consider impossible—survive, against all odds.

The eyes of someone who never truly returned from that fucking camp.

As if a light bulb had gone off inside of his brain, Eggsy realized with sudden clarity the reason for all of her behaviors. How with nearly everyone else, she seemed happy, sly, and even the faintest bit cocky. But when she was around Eggsy? No. Eggsy was getting whatever was left of the girl before the war. The girl who was happy, the girl who didn't have the weight of the world on her shoulders. The girl who was still clinging onto the hope that everything would turn out fine, just like in the movies as she signed those enlistment papers.

Reaching over, Eggsy took her hand in his own as he joined her in staring into the flames, raising the back of her hand to his lips. Harry had once taught him that this was the highest form of respect towards a woman, and if needed, a delicate way of telling someone they were loved. Besides, he wasn't sure what else to say as a proper thank you.

With a sigh and a drop of his glasses onto the table, Merlin rubbed the bridge of his nose. Part of their training was to realize that whatever secret they had wasn't truly a secret when someone else knew it. Candidates were allowed to spend as much time as they wanted with their mentors, growing closer and closer to them until they spilled what they considered their biggest secret, or shared something that not many other people knew the whole truth to. To some, it was having stolen something or doing something illegal. To others, it was backstories. God, how he wished hers was that she had stolen something. That it wasn't her backstory. That she was a fine, perfectly normal girl with a perfectly normal life and a perfectly normal family. But that never fucking happened.

Since Harry Hart had died, Eggsy had assumed position as her and another's mentor. Having originally picked her, everything was set up for her to be a candidate. Then Eggy Unwin, son of Lee Unwin, had a run-in with the law. Merlin had decided to let her into the program as an extra, knowing that she would be willing to work for it, given her background. But now that he knew it… Christ.

Roxy reached forwards, cutting off the projection from Eggsy's glasses that he had left on the side table. All other candidate's stories had made them sound like spoiled rich kids compared to hers, and that they were. "I'm going to bed," she said quietly, meaning that she was going to go to her office and stay up all night, researching Samantha and her family. A word of goodnight came from Merlin, and he stared into his cold coffee as she left. They both knew that Eggsy's response to it all would be rash, violent, even. They just needed as much rest as they could possibly get before it all went to shit.

Heaven help the men and women who did this to her if Eggsy ever found them.


	5. Theodore Bostwick

Three weeks had passed since she had told Eggsy the truth, the whole truth, the version that she had experienced of the crash and the camp. She suspected that he had told Merlin about what she had told him, or their conversations were monitored for the sake of making sure nothing they didn't want known wasn't known. For days after her confession, Merlin had been only the slightest bit easier on her than the other candidates, harboring the idea of favoritism in all of their minds.

Christening their fourth month at Kingsman HQ, Sam was woken with a panicked start as Quentin switched on his light, screaming "Water!" at the top of his lungs. Naturally, everyone woke up after the sudden interruption, either growing annoyed by the false call or watching with wide eyes as Quentin ripped off his covers, completely soaking and furious as Theodore and company laughed, bucket in hand.

Preparing for a fight, Quentin's chest heaved in anger, water still dripping down him. "Come on then!" He said, gesturing to himself as Sam cut in front of him, her hand on his chest to stop him from doing anything rash.

"Quentin, forget it." Sam begged, attempting to get him to look down at her. Quentin had a long history of arguments with Theodore, but not as much as she did. If anyone was going to kick Theodore's ass, it was going to be her.

The corners of Theodore's lips twitched up in a smile, handing the plastic bucket back to Brogues. Everyone was attempting to fall back asleep at this point, annoyed with the fact that they were _still_ arguing. "Oi, what's wrong mate? Can't take a joke?"

Balling her fist into the fabric of his pajamas, Sam finally got Quentin's attention, his velvet-blue gaze one filled with fury and hatred. Shit. Now she was starting to wonder if they had reached the breach of Quentin's patience, which was entirely possible. "Seriously, you'll get toed out and it's just not worth it." The storm in his eyes was slowly receding, but she knew damn well that it wasn't over.

"Maybe I don't give a _fuck_ if I get kicked out." Quentin snarled, the storm coming back as he glared at Theodore, who remained unfazed. God, he fucking hated that guy. It was bad enough that they were roughly the same height and weight, therefore paired in most exercises and forced to get along through gritted teeth (that was mainly on his end, Theodore was far better at pretending he liked Quentin.) and overcome the feeling of wanting to rip the other's throat out.

Quentin had the slight suspicion that the prank was a result of his own. Every morning, they were lined up and checked for uniform, physical, and salute flaws. Quentin had done his very best to make sure that Theodore, Brogues, and Hadley had all ended up over an hour late. Merlin's punishment had been cruel, but my god was it refreshing to both Sam and himself. "Come on, do it you twat." Theodore said, crossing his arms. If Sam wasn't in front of him (and he was now quite glad she was), Quentin would have ripped his fucking head off.

Twisting her head to speak to Theodore, Sam kept her hand on Quentin's chest. "Theodore," she hissed, his attention diverting to her. "Fuck off." Brown eyes flicked back and forth from Quentin to herself, a small aw-like noise coming from his mouth as he implied the relationship between the two of them. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Quentin as the group walked away and dropped her hand.

"Yeah, that's right! Walk away. Dickhead." Quentin grumbled, running his hand through his soaking hair as he bent down to his dog, properly and jokingly named Bear. Running his hand through the dog's fur, he scratched behind Bear's ears in an attempt to say "I'm sorry that you're wet and that they're assholes." It seemed to work, Bear flopping down with a sigh once more. Now they just had to make it through the rest of the night.

The next night had proven more eventful, all of them still training as midnight rolled around. They had been split into teams, handed weapons and balloons with the simple instruction that the last person to have their balloon shot won. Sam just so happened to be on the opposite side this particular round, and couldn't dispel the thought that this was more or less of a game. It wasn't like she was complaining about the fact, heavens no. She liked having a break, even if she was still technically being trained. In fact, she wished that training would be more like this. Her biggest wish, however, was that she wasn't stuck in close quarters with Theodore.

"Target, eight hundred meters." Theodore uttered, seeming to speak exactly as she thought of his name. Currently, his face was hidden behind a pair of binoculars, scoping out the person who had entered both of their fields of vision. Glancing at him through her scope, a scowl crossed her face when she noticed it was Quentin. Of course it was. "You know, it's unbelievable. You're still here, lingering like some big steaming shit that just won't flush."

_How poetic_, she thought to herself, adjusting her position on the ground, the rifle scooting further into her shoulder. She had to have another stand for her rifle, rather than just at the end because of her lack of another hand. It wasn't like it bothered her, what bothered her was Theodore's constant comments about how they should have never let her in the building, and how a cripple shouldn't be allowed to shoot a gun. "Rodger that. Target identified, and how about you shut the _fuck_ up."

"Positive discrimination, that's what it is." Quentin continued, obviously having no intention of stopping anytime soon. "It's like fucking state school kids getting to raise up their grades because their mum is a one-armed lesbian."

"You don't know fuck all about my grades."

"Oh forgive me, I'm sure you're highly educated. Fire when ready." Theodore said, never flinching as he stared out at Quentin. Sam, at this point, wished that the roles had swapped at that Theodore was the one walking around out in the open. She might "accidentally" miss and shoot him in the head then. Adjusting her grip once more, she lined up the shot and pulled the trigger, watching Quentin jump and turn around when his balloon popped.

Looking up from her scope, a smile crossed Sam's face. "How's that for positive discrimination?" _Asshole._

**((Hey guys! Sorry for such the long break, I've been desperately trying to make sure I pass all of exams and I haven't really had much time for writing lately. But I'm back, and I should have another chapter for you tomorrow. Love you guys, keep commenting, and I'll see you next time!))**


	6. Quentin Whickam

**TRIGGER WARNING: Blood**

A certain high was always reached at eight thousand feet for Samantha Ackart, and she didn't mean in the literal sense. The feeling of serenity hit her before the call for the elevation was ever made, and her muscles always relaxed. It was why she chose to stay a pilot, rather than be moved onto the ground permanently for mission and press work. She had never been one to speak in front of crowds, even before everything had happened. Sam was exactly what she seemed like, and that was without a doubt a shy, high-tempered tomboy.

Samantha hadn't been back in air in years, let alone been in a plane. It wasn't fear that was stopping her, oh no. It was the idea. For some reason, she had never felt quite right inside of a plane of she wasn't the one flying it. Yet here she was, stuck in the back of a jump plane, strapped into a HALO suit and preparing for a jump after they reached nine thousand. But it wasn't herself she was worried about. It was Quentin.

From the second they had been handed HALO suits, he had broken out into cold sweat. Choosing to sit across from Sam, he refused to meet her gaze, nervously fiddling with his hand the entire time. "What, don't like heights?" Sam eventually asked, drawing his attention for a mere moment.

"Yeah, s'okay." Quentin replied, eyes immediately going back down to his hands. "I've done it before, which is probably why, come to think of it." The words trailed off at the end, and Sam felt a slight pang of sorrow for him. Maybe something had gone wrong during the experience, and that was why he was so afraid of it.

Placing her hand on his knee, Sam gave him a smile that seemed to scream "I know how you feel." I mean, she did have to have a specialized suit so that she'd be able to pull her parachute cord. "Hey. You're going to be alright—you're top of the class." Giving him a wink, she pulled her hand back and leaned against the side of the plane once more, forcing herself to swallow her fear for the sake of the mission. There didn't need to be two terrified people on this plane.

"Listen up." Merlin's voice came through their headsets sharp and clear, a small green icon appearing in the bottom corner of the glass, showing that noise was coming through. "Your mission is to land on the target without the radar detecting you. If I read you on the radar, or you miss the target, you go home. Is that understood?" A second's pause was all Merlin needed, taking a sip of his coffee. "Drop zone coming up. Thirty seconds."

As if pulled by puppet's strings, they all stood in unison, adjusting their suits as they waited in pairs of two. Sam barely came to Quentin's shoulder at five foot five, but she could still feel his heart hammering from there. If that wasn't an indication of fear, she didn't know what was. "Only one way to go," she commented, staring at where the doors were slowly starting to open.

"Sam, I really don't like I can do this." Quentin said, his breathing starting to grow uneven.

"Of course you can't," Theodore said, nudging past Quentin. "Head to the back, lad, and let the real men show you how it's done." Soon they found themselves at the back of the line, the red siren on the top of the plane screeching to symbolize it was time to jump. Everyone rushed towards the opening, shouts of joy coming from them as they leaped out.

Sam was prepared to make the leap when Quentin suddenly grabbed ahold of the stump left of her arm, stopping right before the ramp. "I can't, Samantha. Wait!"

Pushing his hand off of her, Samantha reversed the grip to steady herself. Maybe moving his hand wasn't such a good idea. "Quentin, stop fucking about." She said forcefully, hoping to shake some sense into him. He needed to pull his shit together if he was going to make it through training. "Follow me, yeah?"

Taking a step back, Sam took a deep breath as she opened her arms in a "See?" motion, closing her eyes right before she fell back into the open air, the feeling of wind whipping around her coming immediately after. And there it was. The feeling of being completely weightless, of falling through nothing. It was a feeling that she could never quite put into words, other than the fact that it kind of hurt and felt fucking awesome at the same time. Her monitor flickered to life once more, the glowing green "K" appearing on the ground before her. Spotting her teammates, she tightened her arms to her body, bulleting down towards them.

Once reaching them, she was delighted to find that their names flickered on her screen, and their cheerful screams filled her ears. "Quinn, it's now or never. Jump!" She said, turning on her back to see the last black-covered body appear from the plane. A smile graced her face, and she rolled back over to find that several members of her team were doing flips mid-air, circling each other and dicking about. Quentin's name flickered onto her com shortly after and she turned to look at him, giving him a thumbs up. "Good man, Quentin! I'm glad you made it!"

Watching them from the safe confines of his desk, dots and names appeared on his screen slowly as he prepared to speak once more, hearing the joyful screams of them all. Cute, they thought it was going to be easy. "My, my, you're all cheerful." He said, a slight bubble to his voice. "Didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? Any idiot can read a heads up display, but a Kingsman agent needs to be able to solve problems under pressure. Like what to do when one of your group has no parachute."

The fun and games immediately stopped, and a panicked look entered all of their faces. Merlin noted how all of their heartrates had immediately risen. "What?" Quentin squeaked, petrified. "No parachute? Merlin!"

"Fuck!" Theodore exclaimed, portraying what they were all thinking with a single word. The idea, or rather the fear, that it was one of them, was ingrained into their heads. And how the hell do they figure it out? "Which one? What do we do?"

"I told you," Merlin replied smoothly, taking another sip of his coffee as he remained completely unfazed. "Aim for the target, don't show up on the radar. And I hope not to be scraping one of you off the pavement, but if I do have to and you're inside the target, please know I'll be very impressed."

There was a small scream of "Oh, fuck you!" from Leo, someone Sam was pretty sure she had never heard speak before. Everyone's head swiveled towards him for a split second, almost as if they had forgotten the immediate danger they were facing. Drifting apart from each other now, everyone raced to think of an idea, Sam's head pulling one first. "Everybody listen, I've got a plan." Her voice was a scream, and she couldn't give a fuck if it was hurting their ears. If they wanted to live, they would get over it. "Pair up, grab the closest person to you!"

Following her orders, everyone seemed to get the idea of what was going to happen. Moving closer to Brogues, she stretched her arm out as far as she possibly could in an attempt to reach him. "Brogues, come on!" Sam shouted, making a grabbing motion towards him.

Brogues glanced down at the ground, and Sam knew exactly what was going to happen the second before it did. "Shit, I can't!" He said, reaching around his side to rip the cord, snapping up as his parachute billowed open.

Anger filled her every emotion, and Sam found herself cursing him out both in her head and out loud. "Fuck! Brogues, you wanker! We've got an odd number now. Quick, make a circle!" Sam's commands were sharp, calculating. The feeling of her time serving as a captain came back to her, and she was flooded with a rush of memories. Theodore screamed something to the rest of them, and she was snapped out of her momentary trance to find that she had joined hands with Quentin and Leo, gripping onto them. Shaking her head, she continued in her attempt to lead them to safety. "We'll pull out cords one by one, and when we know who's fucked, the person on their right grabs 'em."

"Good plan, Sam." Merlin praised, a smile nearly appearing on his face as he noted how similar Eggsy and her plans were. The blonde-haired fireball would be proud. "You have thirty seconds. Come on, hurry."

Biting back the urge to snap at him, Sam held her tongue as Leo announced he was first, pulling his parachute cord, snapping upright as his parachute opened up. Hadley soon followed, and soon it was just Theodore, Samantha, and Quentin. One of them was fucked, and it was a general consensus that they hoped it was Theodore. Sam couldn't say she would be too upset it one of them just happened to let go of him on accident. "Now me!" He called, reaching around his chest and pulling the card, following the same suit as everyone before him.

"Fuck!" Samantha screamed, knowing it was either her or Quentin. Grabbing ahold of his arm, she felt him wrap his hand around her stump, glancing between her and the ground frightfully. Their sirens started to flash with the red sign of low altitude, and she could hear the other boys screaming for them to open their chute in her ear. On the other side of the monitor, Merlin sat up in his seat slightly as they neared the safety line, afraid their fates wouldn't be as lucky as Roxy and Eggsy's were. Luck would have it that the two of them were actually the candidates of the Kinsman previously mentioned. Maybe it was something about where they were from. "Quinn, no matter what happens now, I've got you, alright?"

A hesitant and very much so afraid nod came from Quentin, followed by an "Okay, Sam." with nothing but fear in his voice. Swinging her legs underneath him, Sam locked onto Quentin and held on for dear life. She knew the second she pulled his cord that if she was the one without a parachute, they would snap up into the sky, and there was a strong potential that she could fly off. "Yours first, okay?" She screamed, the low altitude symbol growing so large that it was the only thing she could see. Fumbling around for a second, her fingers eventually found the cord. Taking a deep breath, she ripped it down, only to feel a hard jerk as they were thrown from a hard fall suddenly. "Yes!"

Quentin's mouth opened in a cry of joy as they slowed slightly, the ground coming towards them only slightly slower now. They were going to land in the "K," luckily, but they just needed to get there first. His grip on Sam loosened slightly as he started to relax only the slightest, and realized his mistake the second he did it. Sam started to slip, sliding down his body as she clung onto him for dear life. "Shit!" She screamed in a panic, fingers just barely managing to catch a hold on the slick fabric. A wide-eyed gaze crossed over her eyes, and a look of sheer terror replaced it. The worst part about it was—she never remembered letting go.

"Sam!"

Merlin's hand was reaching for the phone the second before Sam hit the ground, coffee cup having smashed against the floor the second she started to speed up again. Her screams were the only thing that filled the room, minus the panicked screams of Quentin as he watched his comrade fall from his grip. His breath caught as she hit the ground, silence filling his ears for a second before Quentin started up again.

Taking the phone of off the receiver, Merlin hurriedly pulled up one of the outside cameras to watch as Quentin landed inside of the "K" next to Samantha. He wasn't too sure which was more impressive, the fact that she had managed to land on the "K," or the fact that she was somehow still alive after the fall. "This is Merlin, I need a medical team outside to the 'K,' we had one take a fall."

"Rodger that, ETA one minute thirty." He heard from the other side, hanging up the phone just as Theodore landed in the "K" next to them, sitting up to watch Quentin fumble for a pulse, relaxing only slightly when he found one, but it was slow, and heavy. Blood had spilled out onto the ground around her head, eyes shut and face pale. For some reason, in this moment, she was strangely beautiful. Dark hair spread out around her like a twisted halo, lips dark red compared to the rest of her face. Quentin had removed her helmet to see if she was still breathing the second he hit the ground almost, the now bloodstained helmet on the grass near them.

Medics appeared within seconds of him doing so, pushing them away and dragging her outside of the "K" so that the others had the chance to land there. Quentin took to his feet, gathering his parachute in his arms as they put her into a gurney, rushing her off. "Holy shit, I think I just killed her." Quentin finally said once she had disappeared into HQ, voice weak.

"Well, that's one less person we have to worry about. Can't say I'm too upset about it, however." Theodore replied, slinging his parachute over his shoulder as the other three landed, all very far off of the target. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel the slightest bit sorry for the girl, she was the only one here within the sea of men. Not to mention she was at a disadvantage. Wait, what the puck was he thinking? The bitch had been ruining his life for months now, she was getting what she deserved.

Glaring over at Theodore, Quentin held back the urge to sock him right in the face. "Fuck off, Theodore. You'd be dead right now if it wasn't for her." All of the candidates had shed their helmets now, slowly trudging into a line as Merlin appeared from inside of HQ, jaw set and clipboard under his arm. Soon enough they were at attention, Merlin standing before them, knowing that every one of them knew their fate. For some, it was their last day at Kingsman. But that was their own fault.

Cutting right to the chase, Merlin wasted no time in telling them who would stay and who would go home. "Leo, Hadley. You don't land in the K, you're not in the K. Brogues, you opened too soon, you were all over the radar. All three of you, pack your bags. Go home." As the three of them dismissed themselves, Merlin turned his gaze to the last two standing. "Quentin, congratulations. You've set a new record, opening at two hundred feet. That's pretty ballsy. Well done for completing another task. Fall out."

Both Theodore and Quentin took their turn or leave, Merlin starting his march back to HQ to contact Eggsy and let him know what had happened to his candidate when Quentin placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Merlin, is she going to—"

Cutting him off, Merlin glanced down at his clipboard to see if she was still alive. Her heart was still pumping, according to the monitor. Miss Ackart's recovery will entirely depend on how badly she was injured from the fall. However, she landed inside of the K, so she shall remain at Kingsman. Fall _out_, Quentin."

Pushing past the tall boy, Merlin tapped the edge of his glasses twice to contact Eggsy. "Galahad, I need you back at HQ, and hurry. Something went wrong."

**((imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry. I had to. I saw the opportunity and I couldn't let it slip through my fingers. But hey, look on the bright side. You all may get a new chapter involving a very worried Eggsy at Sam's bedside :). Anyways, I'm sorry if this seems rushed in anyway. My heads a bit jumbled at the moment, loves. If any of you have SamxEggsy ship names, comment them and ill pick the best one. I may even let you be a little part of the story...;) hope you enjoyed it!))**


	7. Eggsy Unwin

Eggsy would be the first to admit it, but it was eerily quiet inside of headquarters as they all waited with bated breath for Sam to wake up. The doctor caring for her had explained that what they were playing now was none other than a waiting game. Her recovery, if at all a recovery, would rely solely on tonight. If she woke up, they were out of dangerous waters and her recovery would be a quick and painless one. If not… well, the only place she would be going was home. And it wasn't like she was particularly rushing to open them again, oh no. Samantha seemed to be taking her goddamn time, much to his digression. As soon as the earpiece in his glasses burst forth with Merlin's words, Eggsy had broken into a cold sweat, completely unlike his usual characteristics. Apologizing to his mom and sister, he promised he'd be back as soon as he could, but he needed to go. Michelle didn't even bother to complain with him, knowing whatever had put her son into such a fuss was obviously very important.

The second his feet hit the floor of headquarters, Merlin was there to very calmly explain what had happened to her. While albeit sad that his original candidate, Leo Winchcombe, had been kicked out of Kingsman, a rush of pride came to him when he was told that she managed to land inside of the K, therefore would be allowed to stay. The other two that were allowed to stay included Quentin Wickham (no surprise there, it had taken Roxy forever to find a candidate), and Theodore Bostwick. God, he fucking hated that prick. When they made it to where Sam was being kept, Roxy was already in the room, watching replays of Sam's fall on a small device she had had fashioned for reviews of missions and monitoring. Eggsy now saw why it came in handy.

In complete total of the damage done to her body, Eggsy and the others in the room at the time would admit that they were surprised it wasn't much, much worse from a fall of that height. She was bruised all to hell, the few scattering her face causing him to flinch slightly when he stepped inside, knowing they probably would hurt like a bitch. Eggsy had stood next to the bed, fingertips just barely grazing over the back of her hand, a gesture neither Merlin nor Roxy missed. They would discuss it later in confidence, but right now wasn't the time nor place to discuss it. "She gonna be alright?" Eggsy had eventually asked, glancing up from Sam to finally meet their observant looks.

Merlin, who was closest to the twenty-five-year-old, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We need to be patient, Eggsy. But there's hope. Right now, we're playing the waiting game. She survived a war, Eggsy, and you heard it first hand from her. There's no way she won't come to." _No way_. The words had stung like salt in a gaping wound to him, simply because of the fact that there was a way, and based on his first observation of her, that was the way they were headed. A few more words were passed between the three before Roxy headed out, Eggsy collapsing into a chair next to Samantha's bed.

"You know," Merlin started, standing somewhat behind Eggsy as his eyes flicked over the screens depicting her health. "Harry originally chose her to be his candidate. He'd been studying her for years, watching her every move. Keeping tabs on her recovery. Her family almost his bankruptcy one year while her and her brothers were deployed. Harry had a 'chat' with her father's boss that same day. They ended up being just fine."

Not moving his eyes off of Samantha, Eggsy's mind ran wild. "Why'd he choose me then? I ain't nothin' special, not like her." For god's sake, she had survived a war, lost an arm, and was tormented with nightmares from the events every time she went to sleep. Eggsy, on the other hand, what had he done? Sold cheap drugs to under-aged kids, slept with girls he wouldn't see ever again, and wasted space? No, if anyone deserved to live the life he had, it was Sam.

Crossing the floor, Merlin had noticed a flaw in one of the support systems leading to her endotracheal tube. "Because you, Eggsy, had been the focus of his attention for much longer." Glancing over the beaten girl, Merlin noted the rather shocked and confused look harboring on the boy's face, forcing himself to ignore the fact that Eggsy's hand had managed to find Samantha's, only to let go of it and pull away the second he noticed that Merlin saw it. It had become obvious that the agent harbored feelings for his candidate, and normally Merlin would bring an abrupt stop to anything of the sort, but when it came to the two of them, he would allow it with hesitance. On one hand, he didn't want anyone to hurt one of the agents, but he also didn't want to give a war veteran more reasons for nightmares. He wasn't even sure if Samantha returned Eggsy's feelings, simply because she was so stoic around him. The girl had thousands of sides, and he was never sure which one he got. "The only reason he didn't want to put your life in danger is because he had already killed one member of your family. He couldn't take the blood of another."

Heading towards the exit of the room, Merlin patted Eggsy's shoulder on the way out. "Try to get some sleep. She'll still be here in the morning." Nodding in response, Eggsy allowed his posture to become horrid once more, one hand resting on the chair as the other ran through his hair, not caring if he messed it up. For what felt like the millionth time, his eyes scanned over her body and ran a list of her injuries. Sam somehow hadn't acquired any broken bones, minus three ribs that had been taped up. Severe bruising all over her body, cuts from her suit ripping at her once she hit, several bruised organs, and a concussion that she had gotten when she split open the back of her head. Yet he'd be damned if anyone said she wasn't beautiful. Somehow, when she had a bruise blossoming from the corner of her mouth, a near-perfect line bruising her cheekbone, and one disappearing underneath a bandage on her head, she had never looked more stunning. Eggsy wasn't sure if it was the fact that he hadn't seen her in a few weeks, or if it was the fact that she wasn't hurt worse, but fucking _Christ_ was he in deep for this girl.

It had gotten to the point that he had shown his mother a picture of her, wanting her approval before anything else. Sam had been doodling something onto a scrap of paper she found in his office one day, hair falling over one shoulder and a concentrated look in her grey-green eyes. The sun had hit her just perfectly as it went down, highlighting her in all of the ways that made her look stunning, freckles on her nose standing out. Eggsy had just barely managed to get a picture of her before she looked up, balling up what she had in her hand and throwing it at him. Michelle had liked her. All of his chav instincts had been thrown out of the window for the one armed beauty, and Eggsy found himself wanting to be a gentleman for her. It was strange, really, how a candidate he didn't even really realize was his had such an effect on him. While it was a bad thing to say, Eggsy had never been so glad that someone had lost their dog in his life.

Eggsy's biggest fear, however, was that she wouldn't return his affections. After spending so many years giving away bits and pieces of his heart to people who stomped it to the ground, he was more than hesitant to lend it out once more. He wasn't sure if he could take her rejection, if there was a rejection. All he wanted was to wake up one morning and realize that his life wasn't fucked up anymore, that he was happy and in love and content. And even though it was sappy and dumb and against his normal flirtatious, one-night-stand and never again behaviors, he above all wanted a _family._ Eggsy wanted a girl he could take home to his mom and little sister, a girl that he could fall asleep next to and have her there to wake up with. God, if anyone ever heard what he was thinking, he'd never hear the end of it. The point was, he just wanted someone to have all of this with, fuck how "girly" it made him sound. Maybe, just maybe, Sam was it.

That's why he needed her to wake up. Needed her to open her eyes and have some sarcastic, witty, dry remark roll off her tongue as a smile twitched at her lips. Eggsy needed to know if she returned the way he felt, or if all of his thoughts were just wishes. Ideas that he had dreamed up for himself that would never realistically come true. In his wildest dreams, yes. But nowhere else, much to his disdain. Without realizing, his head had started to droop, eyes closing slowly as hours, minutes, seconds rolled by lazily. At this point, he was far too tired to even fight it. The last thing he did remember doing, however, was leaning over to give her a light peck on the forehead, knowing she wouldn't remember it if or when she woke up.

Every muscle in his body was panic-stricken. For the longest time, Eggsy had laughed it off and put his head back onto the bed, assuming his dreams were attempting to play a prank on him. It was only when he remembered the conversation that he and Merlin once had that he realized, no, this was not a dream. You can't see your reflection in a mirror when you're sleeping. So how in the hell did he see himself there in the mirror, messy haired and the two top buttons of his shirt undone. Eyes immediately traveling to the empty hospital bed, Eggsy turned on his heel and ran his hands along the bed, as if to assure himself that no, she was not there. All of the horrid possibilities of what happened to her flashed through his mind, the worst being that she had died suddenly and they had decided to remove her. It was a little extreme, but it was still a fear.

Pushing open the doors to the room, Eggsy rushed outside and took off to the left, deciding that if for some reason she thought it was a good idea to get up and walk around that she would most likely head to his office. The time on the corner of his glasses read 2:17 a.m., and Eggsy knew that if he wasn't quiet enough, he would have to deal with a very angry Merlin as well. Skidding to a halt in front of his door, Eggsy pushed it open to find it was exactly how he left it. "Fuck," he muttered to himself, closing it and heading off once more, checking room after room until he came to the candidate's room, opening it slowly and peeping his head in.

As if sensing someone he knew was near, Louis' head popped up and he bounded off of Sam's bed, still not out of his clumsy phase as he bounced towards Eggsy, who bent down on one knee to pet him, dragging him outside of the door so he wouldn't wake the other two up. Rubbing down the huge dog, Eggsy smiled as Louis' tail thumped against the floor as he sat patiently. Sam had apparently trained him well. "Help me find your mum, yeah?" He said lowly, staring the dog in the eyes as he continued to rub him down. JB always seemed to understand what he was saying, so he was hoping that Louis was the same way. Standing up, he watched as Louis did the same, trotting down the hallway like he had done it thousands of times. Eggsy obediently followed, of course.

Once reaching a corner, Louis' ear stuck straight up, and he shot off to the left, causing Eggsy to nearly run into a wall he was so thrown off. "No, Louis," he said, struggling to keep up with the dog who seemed to be making every turn he could. Watching him turn into the kitchen, he slowed down, running a hand over his face. "Fuckin' hell, Louis, I don't have time for—" Stopping mid-sentence, Eggsy felt his heart lurch as he entered the kitchen as well. Standing there, gripping onto the counter so hard that her knuckles had gone white, was Sam. And a cup of what appeared to be tea on the counter of the island.

If he was holding something, it would have long since fallen out of his hands, shattered on the floor and jolted him out of his daze. Sam turned to look at him when she heard his sharp intake of breath, a blush crossing over her cheeks where the bruises weren't. "I just really wanted tea," she croaked out, legs looking like they could and would give out at any time. Louis had obediently taken his spot next to her, watching everything unfold as Eggsy stood, still as ever, in the doorway.

"You out of your fuckin' mind?" Eggsy eventually said, entering the room as anger bubbled underneath his skin. "Sam, you fell outta an eight story buildin', basically. How the fuck did you get out 'ere?" They were across from each other now, and Eggsy watched out of the corner of his eye as her grip grew tighter on the counter.

Taking on a defensive pose, Sam attempted to act like her head wasn't pounding and that her legs hurt too bad and were far too weak to be standing this long. Readjusting her grip on the counter, she swallowed her pain and tried to focus on the very upset, very attractive man in front of her. Jesus Christ she wished she had two hands. "I survived a war, Eggsy. Pretty sure I can survive a fall and be just fine," she lied, trying to make herself seem nonchalant and calm when on the inside, she felt like death. Her immediate assessment when she woke up was that she had a few broken ribs and a concussion, but that did not stop her. Nor would it ever.

Sam obviously wasn't getting his point—a few hours ago, she was toying with a coma. You can't just decide that you don't want to be taken care of when you were hurt that bad and just walk around. "Sam, you were almos' in a coma a few hours ago. You've gotta concussion, for fuck's sake!" It wasn't really anger that had fueled his argument, it was more or less concern that she would hurt herself even further if someone didn't know where she was. And Sam being hurt was the _last_ thing he wanted.

Eyebrows furrowing, Sam prepared herself to cross her arms, then realized that the only way she was standing was due to the hand she had on the island. "Why the fuck are you getting so defen—" Her legs and her hand apparently had two different ideas, and mid-sentence they completely gave out underneath her. Eggsy was immediately glad he had been slowly making his was closer and closer to him, quickly grabbing hold of her giving out body and holding her to him tightly, not wanting to let her go or hurt her. A sigh immediately escaped Sam's lips as she held onto him in return, knowing he was right for being concerned. "I just really wanted tea," she repeated into the cotton his dress shirt, wondering in her head where his tie and suit jacket had gone. Not like she cared, really, when he looked good in everything. Sam was also pretty sure that the medicine they had fed into her caused her thoughts to run a little more off than usual.

Reluctantly letting a laugh slip past his lips, Eggsy gently reached down to pick her up bridal style, careful not to hurt her further. "Don' make a habit of getting' hurt and I'll get you all you want," he said, starting to carry her back to her little hospital room, Louis trotting behind them.

"Deal."

((you're all welcome, I wanted to be mean with this. love you guys. :) keep those ship names coming!))


	8. Roxy Morton

**ATTENTION. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN FANART/SMUT/ONE SHOTS, PLASE LOOK AT THE INFORMATION AT THE BOTTOM.**

The small clatter of brushes against a vanity was the only sound that filled the room as Roxy tossed them aside once she had decided she was done with them. After dragging Sam down to her section of mansion headquarters, she had shoved the one armed girl onto a chair with the orders to not move too much and not to flinch. It was only makeup, Sam had told herself. She started to reconsider this statement when Roxy decided to start plucking her eyebrows. Now that hurt like a bitch.

Just barely over an hour ago, Merlin had barged into the candidate's chambers to interrupt a very intense game of cards (where had they even gotten the playing cards?) to deliver news of their first real mission as possible Kingsman. "At ease," Merlin had said when they all took to attention as soon as he entered the room. Once they had regained their seats, Merlin took note of the almost frightening resemblance they all took to their sponsors. Not in appearance, oh no, but in the way they behaved.

Quentin, always so well-dressed and mannerly, perfect posture and glasses completely clean at all times. He had partially dismantled his uniform, however, which was different from Roxy. Taking off the top portion, he had put on a white button down. Merlin didn't see how it was any better, really. Sam, on the other hand, was practically the spitting image of Eggsy as far as behavior went. Unabashedly true to her opinions, always standing up for herself, and nearly _daring _people to think that just because she wasn't born with a silver spoon that they were better. Especially now with her disability. Samantha wasn't afraid of anything, and that's something he admired in her. Handing them each a folder of information, Merlin continued. "So you thought you were done for the day, huh? Well, you're not."

"A party?"

"Tonight." Merlin said with a nod, folding his arms over his chest as he answered Quentin. "In London."

Theodore's face twitched up in a smile, flipping up the picture of the stunning blonde in his folder. It was his immediate thought that this was his particular mission. Not like he minded, the girl was well fit and he'd love to see what was underneath the dress she had on. "Who's this?" He asked cheekily, the smile growing with every second.

Rolling his eyes inwardly, Merlin held back a sigh. You would think that at twenty-two, all of them would have moved past their "horny teenage boy" phase when the opposite was the truth. "Your target. Your mission is to use you NLP training to win over the individual in the photograph. And when I say 'win over,' I do mean in the biblical sense."

Cracking a smile, Quentin held up her photo to show that he had the same girl. "Easy. Posh girls love a boy in glasses."

"We'll see about that, yeah?" Theodore replied, his own smirk showing.

The last to show her photograph, Sam sighed inwardly. It wasn't like she wasn't looking forwards to this, oh no. She was relishing in the fact that she'd beat both of their asses. The only problem is the fact that she would have to get dressed up. Actually be a girl. "We certainly will." She answered back. That was how she ended up in Roxy's room. Like a kicked puppy, Sam had begrudgingly sought out the help of the only other woman she had seen here. Roxy had been more than happy to help, getting to work as soon as Sam hit the chair. Promising Sam that she could borrow one of he dresses she kept at the mansion, idle small talk had been exchanged while she made Sam look presentable enough to go clubbing. A question had been bubbling up at Roxy's lips the entire night as she held up shade after shade of some expensive brand of makeup, and Sam could feel it start to boil over slowly.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Roxy hunted for the brush she needed in the drawers of her vanity which Kingsman had supplied. Apparently when you joined Kingsman as a knight, they set up an extensive room in all headquarters so that you'd never be without any luxury. Rooms, closets full of overpriced and expensive garments, and whatever else they could think of that you would ever need. You never needn't to ask for anything—it was probably already there. "You and Galahad make quite the pair," she said slowly, not wanting to spark anything that could end up badly. Both Merlin and Roxy had been quietly rooting for the blossoming of a relationship between the two. They were both kind souls, disregarding their previous or current jobs. They deserved someone like the other.

A rush of color came to Sam's cheeks and she was glad that you couldn't really see the flush due to makeup. "We're not together, if that's what you're saying." She muttered, mind automatically thinking back to the incident that would say otherwise. Around a week ago, when the bruises on her face were nearly gone and she was almost completely healed, they had had dancing lessons. Theodore and Quentin had grumbled the entire time they were taught slower waltzes, their posh upbringing requiring them to already know how to do so. But the second that they were told that the next dance would be swing, all three livened up immediately.

The day ended with the instructor leaving the three of them to goof off in the studio, showing off their skills and little things they'd learned in previous dance encounters. Sam taught the boys dances that she had learned from her time in the military serving with people of all kinds. Theodore seemed to have lost the stick up his arse for the time being (he was back to his normal self the next day), laughing and making jokes and even applauding when Sam proved to them that you could still do a decent handstand with one arm. Eventually dinner rolled around, the boys heading off when Sam stayed back, claiming she'd be right behind them.

She's been sitting there for about five minutes with the same stupid some on her face, thinking about how if she didn't make it into the program, at least she'd have memories like this to reminisce on when Eggsy peeped his head in, smiling when he saw her. Jacket over his shoulder, Sam forced herself not to stare at the little section of exposed collarbone from where he had unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. Thinking back on it, Sam couldn't even remember most of them dancing together, or even how they ended up dancing together, all smiles and laughs. But what she did remember was him pulling her back from a spin when she tripped and accidentally slammed into his chest, Eggsy's arms immediately there to catch her with their foreheads just centimeters apart as they breathed slightly raggedly. This was the first time they'd been this close to each other since he had found her after her fall, and the seconds following felt like the longest time in her life. Grey met green in the most beautiful clash of colors that one could imagine. Sam was close enough to him that she could count all of the freckles spanning the bridge of his nose.

Eggsy's hands had shifted, one moving to the small of her back to pull her into him, the other cupping her jaw lightly. They were both leaning in, lips so close that if her to hue darted out to wet her lips it would touch his as well when Merlin cleared his throat from the doorway. He had even standing there, watching as they grew closer and closer and debated on whether or not he should break them up. In the end, he did, which earned him a very sour look from Eggsy and a bright red blush from Sam as she hurriedly apologized, gathering her things and rushing out of the room.

Roxy held back a smile, tapping her brush to get rid of any excess. "I think I'd have to say otherwise. He worries about you quite a lot." Placing two fingers under her chin, Roxy tilted Sam's face up to hers as she eyed the work she had already done. "He's nice, and he's smart. Good looking, too. Cares about everyone."

If Roxy would allow her to raise an eyebrow, she would have. "I thought you weren't allowed to have relationships as a knight."

"That only applies to the knights and their candidates. It just means that of you don't make it, you get Eggsy, and if you become a knight, you still get him." Roxy replied, switching out her brush for a tube of dark red lipstick. "Merlin only intervened the other day because he's scared of either of you getting hurt. You just have to continue to do it behind closed doors, Merlin can't stop what he doesn't see."

"How do you know about what happens behind closed doors? Which is nothing, let me assure you."

"Eggsy always forgets to turn off the camera in his glasses."

Shoulders slumping, Sam sighed. "Oh, fuck." This meant that they had most likely heard her sob story of losing her arm, heard her awkward laugh and seen her fall asleep in Eggsy's office. She had acquired the habit of falling asleep against him in the middle of the day when he was there, reading or doing some sort of paperwork that bored her out of her mind. It had gotten to the point where she would stumble in, exhausted from whatever Merlin had put them through and Eggsy would just give her a once over, adjusting himself wherever he was sitting and opening his arms to her with a little smile. He'd make small talk with her until she fell asleep, one hand playing with her hair as he continued to work. Louis was never far behind, laying down at Eggsy's feet with a sigh similar to his owner's.

Putting everything back where she had it, Roxy straightened her back out of habit, smiling down at the right-handed woman. "Come on, then. I think I've got the perfect thing for you."

Within the next hour and a half, all three candidates had been shipped back to London with an address of a club in the center of the city. After a long walk through the cold central London streets, they found the club and joined the line, now towards the front. "Can I trust you two not to argue so much that it scares our target away?" Sam muttered, holding herself against the cold. Seeing her shiver, Quentin immediately shucked his jacket, draping it over her shoulders as she muttered a word of thanks. The outfit Roxy had put her in was stunning on her, but freezing. Shorter than anything she had ever worn before, Sam would be tugging at the hem of the black dress all night. The back swooped down to the small of her back, a feature (which paired with _quite_ high silver heels) had caused a few heads to turn. Luckily enough for her, she was walking with two very tall, very handsome, very threatening looking men so she wouldn't have to worry about any unwanted catcalls. Apparently she looked pretty damn good, Theodore even giving her a once over and the approving nod. That admittedly made her feel mildly disgusted, but it was the slightest bit of a confidence boost.

"It's not me you have to worry about." Quentin muttered, hands stuck in his pockets as he cast an accusatory glance towards Theodore who returned them with a flip of his middle finger. Raising an eyebrow towards Sam, Quentin seemed to say "see?" with his body language. At times, Sam would admit that she sometimes couldn't tell whether they really hated each other of if they were both stuck so far in the closet that they lashed out instead of dealing with their feelings. She had already explained to Quentin that once your "I'd go gay for" list exceeds five, you're bisexual, get over it.

Shuffling slightly to disrupt the pain in her feet, Sam nodded towards the bouncer. "We're up next. Just say your name and let him check you out then move on. This is an invite-only club so we shouldn't have any problems getting in." The words were just loud enough for the three of them to hear, both of the boys giving her small nods before stepping up. It wasn't five minutes before they were all inside of the club, blaring music deafening them as they looked around at the mass of grinding bodies on the dancefloor. "Check around, see if you can find her, Come and find the others if you find her."

Pushing past her, Theodore was already a good length away from them when he called back. "Whoever finds her first has the best shot." A scowl immediately crossed over both of their faces, Sam shoving Quentin's jacket back into his hands, not caring if almost immediately she got stares from her missing arm. Theodore had once again, abandoned the idea of working in a team to have some self-righteous moment of glory that would only bite him in the ass later. Merlin was evaluating them on their performance tonight, and she knew that points would be deducted because of that. Running a hand through her hair, she tugged at the hem of her dress once more before heading off in one direction, not checking to see where Quentin had gone. He'd show up eventually.

Gently nudging her way through the crowd, she noticed the surprising amount of heads she still turned, the comments of "hey baby!" and "nice ass, sweetheart." still there even when they saw her arm. Now that she was considered "disabled," not many men or women were into her once they noticed that she wasn't quite whole. Sam was convinced it was the miracle of makeup that caused them to ignore the missing arm. Don't get her wrong, she was absolutely disgusted by the fact that someone thought this was the appropriate way to talk to a woman and she nearly considered turning back to one of them and correcting them, but she didn't have time. One of the others may have already found their target, and she wasn't coming second place to either of them. Her eyes darted around the crowded club, landing on Theodore as a smirk crossed his face, straightening his jacket and tugging at his cuffs. _Shit._

Her heart dropped as she pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring scoffs from some of the grinding girls. Theodore had obviously found their target and was making a move in. He was right, too. The first person there would have the best advantage, women more often went home with the first person that approached them rather than the second or the third. Why this was a statistic she didn't fucking know, but it was one that Merlin has instilled into their beads during training. Sam was coming up beside them now, the slightest whisper of their conversation hitting her ears. Snatching a glass of champagne off the server's tray, she plastered on a smile and sat down next to them, sending a "fuck you" to Theodore with her eyes. "Oh my god, negging! That's hilarious, I haven't heard anyone try that since the noughties."

The blonde woman who had just spent the last few moments checking Sam out (maybe her ass did look good in that dress.), gave her a confused look. Crossing her fingers where the girl couldn't see them, she prayed that she wasn't dumb. Well, her name on the file they had even given was "Lady Sophie Montague-Herring," so she doubted that she would ever have to be smartnp matter what she did. "Excuse me?"

Theodore's jaw clenched roughly, and Sam took a sip of her champagne before speaking, eyes locked on him when saying the last sentence. "Negging—saying something to a pretty girl in order to undermine her social value, it's supposed to make you want to win his approval. Absurdly basic neurolinguistic programming technique." Tossing some of her hair over her shoulder, she spotted Quentin come into view, holding a champagne glass as well. Damn it, she wanted to keep being the smart one for a while.

"Is it just me or does this champagne taste a little bit funny?" He asked, sitting down in a chair across from the three of them. Quentin had obviously been listening to their conversation and waiting for the right time to enter, his comment perfectly in time to fill a gap. Completely tossing him over his shoulder, you could see the frustration starting to build in Theodore when he replied with "Yeah, it's an acquired taste mate," only to have Lady Sophie cut him off from speaking to her with a smile towards Quentin.

Staring into her glass for a half second, she raised it so he could see the blue liquid better. "I think it's cheap. Get one of these, they're delicious." Another alluring smile.

Determined to take control of the conversation once more, Theodore turned his chest more to draw her attention, a social cue you're bred to pick up from an early age. Not many people consciously are aware of it, but you listen anyways. "You know, if you're into seduction techniques, this guy is textbook." Shooting a look at Quentin, he made sure the curly haired boy knew exactly why he was doing this. "See what he did? It's called an opinion opener. Got you talking with a mutual question, got all of us involved in the conversation so that _you_ craved individual attention."

Glowering at Theodore, Quentin retaliated. "No, I'm just saying the champagne is shit." Theodore's chest immediately puffed up, and you could see the backlash at the tip of his tongue when a waiter entered their conversation, a bottle of champagne in hand as he shifted the weight of the tray.

"Lady Sophie Montague-Herring, call for you at reception." He said, watching as the pretty blonde stood, leaving her glass on the table. His appearance immediately reminded Sam of that of a rat's face. Frightening. "Be right back" Sophie had called to them, promising Quentin that she'd see them in a bit. That was good. A wave of reassurance passed over her as she realized that they hadn't scared her away at all. Quentin stood from his chair, moving over to where Sam was.

"Move over Sam, I'm feeling a bit rough."

Eyebrows furrowing together, Sam made room for him on the couch and eyed her friend, feeling Theodore roll his eyes beside her. "You alright?" Sam asked, considering feeling his forehead but knowing it was probably a step too far. The dark haired man shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

The waiter cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him once more. "Sorry to eavesdrop, but there's a much easier way to guarantee getting someone home." Giving them a smile, Sam inwardly rolled her eyes and prepared herself for a speech about how just being herself always got the girl. "Rohypnol." All three of them shared a look once he said that, and they realized why they had all started to feel horrible. _They had been drugged._ "Or maybe even something stronger!" Sam's glass of champagne toppled out of her hand and she started to lose control of most of her limbs, feeling them go numb as her world faded to black and Quentin slumped over on her shoulder.

Almost immediately after they blacked out, Roxy, Eggsy, and Theodore's sponsor appeared from within the crowd, staring down at the three of them and wondering if that's what they looked like when they were candidates. With a sigh, Eggsy brushed off the front of his jacket before walking towards Sam. "Train comes in thirteen minutes. See you lot later." Scooping the unconscious girl into his arms, Eggsy adjusted the way her head rested against his shoulder so that her neck wouldn't hurt when she woke up, immediately getting chill bumps from the feeling of her breaths against his skin. Nodding towards the two men who had come to drag Quentin and Theodore out, he muttered a quick goodbye to his fellow knights and headed out of a backdoor to the club, a Kingsman issued car at the end of the short steps. Gently positioning her inside, he muttered to the driver that she would be the first to go so they needed to hurry.

As soon as the car was in motion Eggsy's attention shifted to the beautiful girl asleep in his lap. He saw no use in wasting time buckling her into the seat, choosing rather to just hold her to his chest. Roxy had done an excellent job of dressing her up for the occasion, she looked stunning. The entire ne bad been watching her from the clubs cameras, he wanted to punch thru lights out of every single man who made a joke about grabbing her ass or an obscene comment on how she looked. He couldn't really say much, a few years ago he would have made the first comment, but be wasn't like that now. However, he was having to force himself from focusing on her dark red lips that looked so tempting and the feeling of his rough palm against the smooth skin of her exposed back, tips of his fingers accidentally dipping below the fabric as he held onto her side. Most importantly, however, Eggsy felt a lump in his throat when his eyes trailed up her legs to the hem of her dress that had ridden up to the point where she was almost exposed. There was a cold shower in his future.

The valet snapped him out of his trance when he called back that they had arrived, someone opening the door for him and pulling Sam out. Eggsy had partially hoped that he would be able to be the one to take her down there, but it wasn't up to him. Stepping out of the car, he watched as they started to walk away with her before he called out for them to wait, jogging up next to them. Leaning down, he smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead, whispering a small "good luck," into her skin before he pulled away and walked the other direction, heading down another set of stairs.

It wasn't ten minutes after this that Sam slowly started to come to, blinking away unconsciousness to the sight of a grimy ceiling. The ground beneath her was slightly damp, sending chills to the exposed skin of her back. Sam was struggling to remember what had happened to her and how the hell she had got there when she tried to move her right arm, only to find it was bound by some sort of restraint. Immediately becoming more alert, she tilted her head to the side to see that she was tied to some sort of metal, the stump of her arm tied painfully behind her back. The waiter from the club was standing by her feet, crossed over and tied down as well. How nice, the psycho had been nice enough to tie her legs together like a lady. "What the _fuck_?" Sam moaned incoherently, head throbbing with every sound and movement she made.

"This knife can save your life." The rat-faced man said with a grin, pulling a dagger from his pocket to have the blade shine in the light. A loud noise came from her left, and Sam's head rolled to the side to spot a light coming around the bend and she immediately put two and two together. Eyes going wide, Sam immediately started to pull and kick at her restraints, heart hammering against her ribcage.

"Holy shit, oh my _god_, cut me out—cut me out!" Sam panicked, eyes darting from the train to the rat-faced man to the restraints tying her down. She couldn't die now, she had too much going for her! Oh god, what would they tell her family? Her friends? She couldn't die! Not now.

Twisting the knife in his hands, the waiter smiled in the direction of the train. My employer has two questions for you, Samantha. What the _fuck_ is Kingsman, and who is Gary Unwin?" All of the blood rushed from her face and her heart immediately dropped. Whoever his employer was obviously knew enough about Eggsy to know that he was her mentor and that his real name was Gary. Someone was a mole inside, and that terrified her. She had met traitors before, and they were easy to spot out. But she hadn't met anyone so far.

Eyes as wide as marbles, Sam felt the strange urge to throw up knotting in her stomach. "I don't know who the fuck that is, just cut me out of these fucking ropes!"

"Oh Samantha, I just killed two of your friends who gave me the same _bullshit_ answer." The man snarled, causing her to flinch slightly in her panic. That meant Quentin and Theodore were both dead, a thought that sent stones to her belly. Even though she hated Theodore, she had no wish for him to die. Be hurt? Maybe. But she never wished death upon anyone. What would Kingsman tell their families? That they were killed in a rogue incident?

"Just let me go!" She said, feeling hot tears threaten to spill over on her cheeks as she neared the end, the train's horn blaring as it rumbled nearer to her, the ground shaking with the force of it.

"Hey Sam!" Sam heard him yell over the roaring train, knowing her life was about to end. "Is Kingsman really worth dyin' for?"

The next few seconds, Sam could barely remember anything of. She remembered the bloodcurdling scream she let out, the warmth of the speeding train approaching and the feeling of being dropped. Everything went silent afterwards, and her world was incredibly still. Was this what dying felt like? In some bizarre way, was the feeling of being dropped her way of entering hell? Above her, there was the hiss and click of metal coming apart, and she opened a tentative eye. The cold, disgusting brick of the tube railway greeted her, along with the image of Eggsy replacing the waiter as she was brought up from the ground. Head dropping back to the train track, she heard a word of congratulations as she attempted to slow down her racing heart. Flicking up her middle finger, she waited a few seconds before speaking to him, licking her lips. "How'd everyone else do?" She croaked, opening her eyes to look at him finally.

A rush of pride came over him when he realized that just like him, she was more concerned about her teammates than the fact that she had almost been killed by a train. "You're first. The asshole one is next. We got about… thirty minutes before he goes. Wanna see?"

Giving him a strange look, Sam shifted her weight to symbolize she wanted out. "Yeah, whatever." Soon enough, she was standing inside of Kingsman headquarters with the other candidate that had passed, and it wasn't Quentin. Theodore, much like herself, had never given up a word about Kingsman, continuing to deny it up until he nearly got hit by the train. Quentin, on the other hand, had offered to pay the guy from the start. The second the word Kingsman was dropped however, Quentin did not hesitate to give up all of the information he knew about it, including the real names of all of the Knights he knew. Sam expected this kind of thing from Theodore, but most certainly not Quentin. She was both disgusted with his actions and shocked.

Turning away from his huge monitor, Merlin sighed with the same thoughts as Sam. But as their mentor, he technically wasn't allowed to hold favorites or accidentally not see something. Quentin was out of the program. And for good. "Galahad, Gawain. Congratulations on your candidates reaching the final stage of the testing process. As tradition allows, you how have twenty-four hours to spend with them. From now on, there are no safety nets. Understood?" Sam and Theodore glanced at each other, realizing that this was more lf a competition now than ever, and that they were more than likely fucked. "Good. Dismissed."

Nodding at the man in goodbye, all four of them filed out slowly, heading in different directions as they gathered what they would need for their day off. A well-deserved one at that, too. Holding open the door, Eggsy stepped aside to let Sam through as she yawned, heels already in her hand. "I'll meet you in your office in fifteen," she said between yawns, running a hand through her hair as they neared Roxy's quarters. "I've got somewhere I want to go, if that's alright with you."

Eggsy shrugged nonchalantly but quickly realized that she was in front of him and voiced himself. "'S fine. Didn't have anywhere we needed to go planned." In all reality he was relieved that Sam had something in mind, otherwise they would have spent their day at his flat. Not like that would be a bad thing, oh no. It was just that his mother had an unnatural sense for whenever he was back in town. He wasn't sure how ready he was for that, foregoing all feelings that he did harbor for Sam.

"Great." She replied, a few paces from Roxy's door. The Knight had informed her that when they came back (she forgot to mention that it was an _if _as well), Sam was allowed to take anything from the back of her closet if need be. She liked Roxy. It took balls to be a Knight, and as the first female Knight Sam had heard of, she'd imagine that was even harder. Pulling up the hem of her dress, Sam stripped it off right before entering Roxy's room and felt Eggsy's eyes on her the entire time. "We've got a train to catch soon."

**((Hello my loves! I'm sorry for being gone so long, I was traveling overseas for a month, and then I had to move house shortly after so I was all kinds of busy. But I'm back now and with quite the long chapter.**

**For those of you intrigued by the comment I've left at the top, I'll explain myself. I am looking for people who would be interested in creating fan art for RHW, one shots and smut as well. This is not to feed some ego of my own, but to get you all involved as well. If you draw a scene that I've already written, I'll go back and put a link to your lovely artwork. If try write a small scene or smut, I'll try my very hardest to work it into the story! There are over six thousand readers now and growing, so I'm sure one of you would be interested. :)**

**My email is ****aeh0612 ****if you choose to contact me without an account, or if you even want to DM me, that'd be fine as well. I can't wait to hear from some of you! Keep commenting, favoring and telling your friends! Love from Sam and myself.))**

**((Oh! And I almost forgot. I'm holding a contest for a new character. Comment the details, name, age, how they'd fit into the plot and I'll choose one. Bye-bye, now!))**


	9. Update

Hey guys. I know it's been a while since I last updated any of my stories, so this is an apology and an explanation mixed together.

Recently, I've been dealing with a severe bout of depression that ended in a suicide attempt. I was unhappy and hated everything I was doing, and more than once I considered deleting these stories on the fact that I was so unhappy with everything. You guys have continued to read and comment on all of my stories, and for that I thank you. Life has gotten a little sweeter since my attempt and I came to terms with who I truly am.

Reading over my writings, I have decided that before I post any new chapters, I will be editing all of the old chapters. My writing style has changed and so have my ideas, and I can't wait to show you guys how. This is just a short apology for a long list of things. Thanks so much, guys. I love you.

abcakes


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